Trapped
by LostAndLonging
Summary: Princess Emma has always known she will never marry for love, like her parents, but rather for an alliance between kingdoms. However, when her parents try to force her to marry her would-be murderer of two years before, the son of the Dark One, Prince Neal, Emma knows she can stay no longer. Soon, she meets the dangerous Captain Hook. Warning: Dark!Killian, rated M for a reason!
1. Escape

"Emma, dear, we have something to tell you." Princess Emma tilted her head to one side, waiting for her mother to go on. Snow looked nervous, which Emma had learned was never a good thing.

"Seeing as it's your 18th birthday in a few days..." Snow paused, fiddling nervously with a thread on her lavender gown. "And also seeing as how, for two years, you have favored no suitor, we have taken the liberty of choosing one for you ourselves." Emma froze, anger bubbling up in her, but she restrained it under a mask of calm. She would let it out later, when her maids had left her for the night, when she could scream into her pillow without being heard.

"Who is it that has gained your favor, Mother?" Emma asked calmly, the only sign of her anger being the way she fidgeted ever so slightly, hands clenching and un-clenching once.

"His name is Prince Neal, the son of the Dark One," King David, her father, replied this time. At that, shock replaced her calm exterior for a moment, before being rapidly overpowered by anger.

"_Neal?" _she hissed, striving desperately to remain calm but failing. "You engaged me to _Neal? _After _everything _that he's done?" Snow backed up a step, obviously startled by Emma's anger. Thanks to her magic that spiraled out of control whenever her emotions got the best of her, she had long learned how to maintain a calm surface. She had never gotten truly angry since her 14th birthday, and now, her daughter's anger, even contained, was a fearsome sight. Especially, Snow mused, when it was coupled with the ball of golden flame that flickered, seemingly unconsciously, on the palm of Emma's hand.

"Ever wondered who tried to murder me on my 16th birthday? It was Neal!" She was almost screaming now, her magic making her entire being start to glow. "He _betrayed _me, he tried to _murder _me, and you turn around and engage me to him?" David stepped back this time, probably because of the gold fire that was growing stronger and stronger, making Emma's body emit a faint glow.

"Emma, you have to understand, we _need _this alli-" Snow tried, but Emma silenced her with a flick of the hand that did not have fire.

"No. You will _not _make excuses. This is unforgivable. Not to mention extremely unsafe," Emma said, anger starting to fade, being replaced with a cool intensity that scared her parents far more than any fury could ever have. The fire in her hands turned cooler, a deeper shade of gold, but no less strong; if anything, it was more powerful.

"He could try to murder me in my bed like he did two years ago, and succeed this time, _Mother, Father," _Emma said. "Or should I even call you that anymore? After all, shouldn't your parents try to protect you, not make you marry a man who betrayed you because his daddy told him to?" Snow was rapidly becoming as pale as her name, and opened her mouth in a futile attempt to calm Emma once more, but her daughter turned on her heel, silvery silk dress swishing, and stormed out of the room.

* * *

><p>Emma was furious.<p>

She had never felt more rage in her entire life, and she could feel the control she had on her magic begin to slip away, which was something that had never happened since she was 14. She closed her eyes, leaning against a marble column and pressing a hand to her head, willing herself to stop thinking. It worked, like it always had before, the warm energy coursing through her body beginning to fade. For a moment, she almost missed it, but she reminded herself that _magic always comes with a price. _

As the anger subsided, it left only the intense feeling of wanting, no, _needing _to get away. To run, as far and as fast as she could, away from this life, with its responsibilities, constant annoyances, everything. She knew, even as she thought it, that it was childish, but she had been seen as an adult for so long- ever since she was 14, really- that sometimes her lost childhood begged to come back to her.

But surely her parents had a reason for doing what they had done?

Emma snorted. They might be her birth parents, but she had spent the first 14 years of her life without them. To Emma, parents weren't people that gave birth to you, cast you out into the streets, and then happened upon you 14 years later, expected you to be happy you had finally found them, and took you to the palace to begin a life of drudgery- because that was what it was. In short, she didn't trust them. Even though, as an 'orphan' living in the streets, she had had to fight for every day's food, she had been free, free in a way that she had never been since being forced to come to the palace.

Now, another measure of her freedom- the last one, really- was being taken away; her freedom to choose whom she wanted to marry.

For one wild moment, she was entirely certain exactly what she was going to do. She was going to do what she did best: run.

Then sense set in. She couldn't just decide on the spur of the moment what she was going to do; she needed a plan. In the meantime, though, she needed to act fine- well, not fine, but tolerant- of her engagement, in order to allay the suspicion that she might run away from her responsibilities. She started walking back to her room, a small smile on her face.

She may be trapped, but she could still escape.

* * *

><p>Two weeks later, Emma was finally ready.<p>

Slipping out of bed, she quickly put on a tunic and leggings, then, grabbing her cloak and the sack of provisions she had managed to pilfer from the kitchens, she stepped out on the balcony. Without a second thought she grasped onto the vines that covered the castle walls and began her descent.

Carefully, keeping her form small and her step light, Princess Emma glanced furtively around before carefully beginning her route to the castle gate, grateful for the years of practice she had sneaking around; it was invaluable in helping her to successfully evade the guards. Finally, however, she slipped past the last guard, past the palace walls at last.

Taking a deep breath, the princess breathed in the cool, night air. It was her first time in four years being outside the castle walls; her parents were terrified she was going to leave them; rightly so, Emma thought with a snort. It was the first time in four years she was free.

Taking another deep breath of the invigorating night breeze, Princess Emma heaved her sack onto her shoulder and began the descent down the hill her former palace was situated on. Every few steps, she readjusted her hood. Even though only few of the citizens had ever seen her, thus earning her the title of the 'Ice Princess', those that had, had spun tales of her 'dazzling' (so they said; Emma thought they were over-exaggerating) beauty and cool, almost cold exterior. Still, she didn't want to take the risk of being recognized and sent back to the palace. She needed her escape to go well.

As she came within seeing distance of the port town next to the castle, she paused, kneeling down and plastering dirt firmly onto her face. She did it carefully, knowing from years of experience exactly how to make her seem stronger or weaker, or, like she was doing now, to disguise her appearance.

After her face was covered, she proceeded to do the same with her neck, arms, hands, and any other exposed skin, before finally readjusting her cloak a final time and entering the town.

It was surprisingly noisy for the cozy little port town it was supposed to be; the tavern seemed especially so, but the princess ignored the unusual occurrence, instead making her way to the docks. She knew her only chance of getting away would be to stowaway on one of the ships, but she knew she would have to do it carefully. Over half of the ships were her father's; they would turn her in the moment they caught sight of her. The rest, though, were a mixture of the Dark One's ships, which she would rather die than get on, and several other kingdom's merchant ships, all of which were allies of her father's kingdom, and therefore would turn her in instantly. Just as she was about to give up and settle down for the night in order to wait for a ship whose crest she did _not _know, she spotted a new one out of the corner of her eyes; a strange crest with a red skull and two bones that formed an X. She stared at it for almost a solid minute before remembering what it meant; it was the skull and crossbones. Pirates.

All of a sudden, the unusually rowdy tavern made sense. She was no fool; she had heard many tales about pirates and their... ahem, conquests. Truth be told, she had heard more tales than she would like to admit about them; they fascinated her in a strange way. Even though they were evil, stealing, plunderering and murdering villains that took whores, they were... free. And she wanted, no, _needed,_ freedom more than anything in her life. For a moment, she was almost tempted to stowaway on a pirate ship, before rolling her eyes at herself. If she didn't get herself killed, she would most definitely get herself raped, probably raped and murdered, Emma thought dryly. Unless of course she told them she was a princess. Then they would try and ransom her.

Personally, she would almost rather be raped than go back to the palace. At least on the ship she had a fighting chance; growing up on the streets had acquainted her with the need to survive, as well as basic hand-to-hand combat. And her father and mother had both done their best to teach her their respective skills of swordsmanship and archery. Truth be told, she wasn't too good of a swordsman (Well, her father said she was, she always thought he was over-exaggerating like everyone else did) and couldn't hit a target to save her life, but add that to her magic, and well... She had at least a chance; slim but there.

But it was still a stupid idea.

Emma stood up before she could stop herself. She had never been known for her smart decisions, and right now she was about to prove that. She cautiously started towards the ship, glancing around every few steps. Once onboard the ship, she paused once more, but before she could get more than a few steps, she heard a voice right next to her ear; so close that she almost jumped out her skin.

"And where might you be going, _darling?_" the voice was a deep timbre and thickly accented, the kind of voice that would make most girls weak at the knees. But Princess Emma could hear the underlying darkness and instantly knew this was someone to be reckoned with. She turned around slowly to see a pair of brilliant blue eyes watching her intently, a dark smirk barely visible in the almost complete darkness.

Emma stared at him calmly, knowing her only chance would be to keep her cool. She had absolutely no sexual experience- she hadn't even kissed anyone- so seducing this man was absolutely out of question.

She felt rather than saw him move closer, so close she could almost feel the warmth emanating from him. He leaned his face inwards just a little bit, so close that their lips were practically touching. Her breathing quickened slightly, and she knew the man was doing it on purpose.

"I'll ask again, where do you think you're going?" his voice dipped even lower, an easily readable threatening undertone coloring it. Taking a deep breath, Princess Emma tilted her head upwards just a bit so she could lock eyes with the man, knowing the danger of showing her face but knowing also the danger of backing down.

"Your methods may work on other girls, but they don't work on me," the princess said softly, concentrating on calming down, calming down. She was finding it harder and harder to keep her magic under control with him in close proximity, not sure if it was fear that was doing it or... something else. Exactly what the something else was, she had no idea.

She was rewarded by the strange man getting even closer, closer than she thought was humanly possible, so close they were chest to chest. Her heart began to start racing a little erratically, but this time she knew exactly what it was- fear. He was easily close enough to stab her, if he wanted to. She needed to get away, she was afraid of what would happen if she stayed, but she-

She was afraid of what would happen if she tried to get away, too.

"I think you were trying to stowaway on my ship," he said, more of a growl than anything. A brief flash of surprise lit her face; _this _was the pirate captain? He _was _extremely attractive, good at threatening people, and seducing young girls; he did seem to fit all the rules.

"And do you know what I do with stowaways?" one hand gripped her tightly all of a sudden, so hard and tight she had to fight to not cry out. Then something cold touched her; looking down she gasped. Instead of a left hand, he had a gleaming silver hook.

Suddenly, she realized just who she was dealing with. Captain Hook, the most infamous pirate on the high seas.

"Captain Hook." Emma said levelly. He tilted his head.

"Ah, I see you've heard of me. All the better." he paused, eyes raking up and down her form. Emma shivered ever so slightly, wishing her cloak covered her more; this man was unnerving to say the least. He practically emanated darkness.

"Now, what is a girl such as you doing out alone at night?"

"Night time when the captain is out is generally the best time to stowaway, Captain," Emma said calmly, just managing to keep up her facade.

He leaned forward again, brushing her hood back ever so slightly.

"I think I should... _punish _you for daring to try and touch my ship, what do you say, wench?" Emma paled, hoping the dirt that covered her skin hid it.

"Well, that depends on the form of punishment, Captain," Emma said as coyly as she could. Even she, however, could not disguise the slight quaver in her voice, and from the slight smirk, Hook heard it. She knew what the Captain was going to do.

He grabbed her roughly by the shoulder, half dragging her into what she assumed must be his cabin. Without further ado, he started unbuttoning his shirt, and Emma bit her lip, paling further, trying to conceal her trembling. Glancing around furtively, she took inventory of the cabin; it was a bit small, but other than the desk and bed, she couldn't see very much of it. Just looked at the desk made her pale even more, especially when Hook followed her gaze and returned it with a sneer. Right before he took his shirt off, though, he started back towards her and began to slowly run one hand up and down her body, feeling her. She flinched ever so slightly, but the answering steel on her backside conveyed an unspoken threat; move, and I'll gut you.

Right as she was certain Hook was going to hitch up her skirts and take her right then and there- exactly _how _had she ended up with her back against the wall?- he stopped, a smirk returning to his face.

"Now, now, dear, I may be many things, but I won't take an unwilling woman." he paused, leaning back in, and slowly ran his tongue over her earlobe. Emma resisted the urge to shiver (she was the _Ice Princess, _for heaven's sake, how could this man affect her so?), nervously trying to readjust her hood. "I'm a very patient man, darling. And sooner or later, you'll be throwing yourself at my feet, begging for the privilege of making me come." this time, the shudder that rose within her was of revulsion.

"I could never want someone like you," Emma snapped. A small spark appeared briefly, right next to Hook's ear, but if he noticed, he said nothing. He simply leaned in closer, winked, and said, "We'll see about that." then he retreated one step, allowing her to get off the wall, and sent her down to the brig.

"Can you cook, wench?" he asked briefly, as he locked her into the cell. Though privately, Emma was relieved he hadn't asked for her name, she had to admit the title was wearing on her.

"No." Hook tilted his head.

"Really? Are you some sort of princess, maybe?" Emma bit the inside of her cheek briefly.

"No. What I am is none of your business," she replied as evenly as she could. Hook leaned into the bars, his blue eyes swirling with the strange almost empty darkness she had recognized from the moment she heard his voice.

"Oh, I rather believe it is, darling," he said.

"Let me rephrase that," the princess said after a brief pause. "What I am is simple: No one."

Hook stared at her for a moment.

"I've heard many a bar whore tell me that. Are you saying you're the same as them?" she caught a faint smirk just as he said it, effectively cooling her anger the moment it started up. He didn't believe her; he was simply waiting for her to get angry and slip up.

"No. I am nobody, a common street wench, Captain. I decided I wished to try and make my fortune elsewhere, and tried to stowaway on this ship."

"I don't believe you," Hook drawled. Emma met his gaze steadily.

"Believe what you will, Captain." she said coolly, then turned to the bed. She heard Hook quietly hiss before apparently deciding her not worth the effort and leaving the brig without another word.

Princess Emma pulled the hood over her face, lay down on the bed, and closed her eyes.

To think, from her palace to _this. _

Needless to say, she cried herself to sleep that night.

* * *

><p>The next day, she slowly drifted into consciousness. Hook was there, smirking at her, his features even more handsome in the light of the day, but it didn't make him any less revolting to Princess Emma. He was a man that would rape her, then probably murder her afterwards, and she was stuck with him until he tired of her and disposed of her- in whichever way he saw fit.<p>

"Wench," he said. "Today you shall prove yourself useful to me. You'll be serving in the kitchens."

"I thought I-" Emma started, annoyed, but Hook cut her off.

"I _said," _he started in a low and dangerous tone, "That you are to be serving in the kitchens. On board this ship, my word is law. It would do you well to remember that." he stared directly at her, and this time, Emma looked away briefly.

"Did you hear me, wench?" he growled, and the princess could only nod. Standing up, she as casually as she could readjusted her hood before following the pirate captain upwards. Once on deck, she gasped. All around her was only open sea; they must have cast off when she was still sleeping.

"It's beautiful..." Emma murmured.

"Aye." Hook replied, following her gaze. He seemed almost amused, and for a moment, he looked like he was going to say something else, but then he snapped his jaw shut and continued onward.

"Here is where you'll be working for the next two weeks or so." Emma opened her mouth, about to ask about what was going to happen after those two weeks, but once she saw the dark gleam in his eyes, she decided she didn't want to know, and nodded once more.

"What's wrong, darling? Cat got your tongue?" suddenly, there he was again, invading her personal space. She resisted the urge to shove him backwards, knowing it would only make this worse. He leaned closer and closer, and Emma screwed one eye shut, not wanting to see, but also needing to. Thankfully, before Hook could do anything more, they were interrupted by a cough.

"Captain? What is the meaning of this?" a new voice asked. Turning her head, Princess Emma saw a shorter, almost rotund man watching them.

"Ah, Tom. This wench was caught trying to stowaway on the _Jolly. _She will be joining you here every morning." Without waiting for a reply, Hook spun on his heel and walked out.

Emma turned to Tom, waiting for him to make some innuendo or jeering remark, but instead, all he said was,

"What's your name, lass?" Emma tilted her head, confused. So maybe only Hook made innuendos and inappropriate comments.

"I'm..." 'Emma' wasn't exactly the smartest thing to say, now was it? "Swan." she paused. Though she had long ago come up with the name 'Swan', it was a last name, not a first name. "Jade Swan." she said finally. The courtiers had always told her her eyes were green as jade, (she got the feeling they meant 'hard as jade' too) and it was as good a name as any.

"Jade," Tom said slowly. "I can't see your face, so I can't tell you if the name suits you or not." Emma dipped her head, concealing her face further. She expected Tom to rip it off, but instead he sighed.

"Very well, then. Let's get cooking."

* * *

><p>Emma felt positively ill.<p>

Her stomach roiled and heaved at every rock of the ship, and she kept throwing up.

Not that there was anything to throw up, Emma thought dryly. She hadn't eaten anything for almost 24 hours, she suddenly realized as came out on deck just in time to see the sun set. Her eyes widened; she had never seen anything as beautiful as the sunset.

"That's beautiful," she murmured, this time to Tom, who had rapidly become as close of a friend as he could under the circumstances. Tom, like Hook, nodded.

"Indeed it is," he replied, sending her a small smile as if to comfort her. Over the course of the day, Tom had managed to pry out one or two of the details of her capture, and had promptly become sympathetic to her, which confused her, for weren't pirates supposed to be cruel?

* * *

><p>"Wench." she tensed instantly at the voice, surprised by how quickly she had come to recognize it as his. She had just been sent back to the brig; it figures that Hook would come just as she was starting to cry.<p>

"Captain," she responded as evenly as she could manage.

"You never told me your name." the princess resisted the urge to shudder; it was at times like this that she most feared him. Feared him because all it would take were three words and he would know exactly who she was. Feared him because, for some strange reason, he made her _want _to tell him who she was. It was like his eyes compelled her to do whatever he asked.

"Swan." she said shortly.

"Just Swan?"

"That a problem, Captain?"

"I would normally say at this point that a woman as lovely as you can not go just by a surname..." Hook paused.

"But I don't even know if you _are _lovely." he was goading her again, she knew. Trying to get her to throw off her cloak. He suspected she was someone of nobility... _But if he does, why hasn't he uncloaked you yet? _Scratch that. He just wanted to see her face so he could flirt with her more openly.

All the better to try and get her on her knees in front of him. Emma wasn't a fool; she knew exactly what went on between a man and a woman. From some of the servants, she had even heard tales of how to pleasure a man. And the tales were not particularly... nice to hear.

"Perhaps I am ugly, and simply do not wish to reveal my ugliness," Emma replied. Hook chuckled, a dark sort of chuckle that unsettled her.

"Oh, I know you're not. No woman with a voice like yours could be ugly." Was that a compliment? "Though, in reality, all a pirate wants are two things: a mouth, and a good pair of tits. The rest we could care less about." once more, she felt waves of revulsion start up.

"So, any second thoughts about my... proposition, last night?" Hook asked. He was clearly enjoying this.

"Yes," Emma said, trying to make her voice breathy. Hook raised an eyebrow.

"Please elaborate," he said, his smirk beginning to turn into a leer.

"I've been thinking," Emma started conversationally, "That I would really like to punch you in the face." the moment she said that, she knew it was the wrong thing to say. Hook's face contorted in rage, eyes darkening so much they looked black. In two movements, he had unlocked her cell and pulled her up to him, her hood beginning to ride up her face.

She waited, tensing, for him to do something- maybe punch her, or slap her, or threaten her. Instead, his lips covered hers in a cruel, punishing kiss that left her gasping for breath. He bit her lower lip over and over, hard enough that he drew blood, making her eyes water. As soon as she opened her mouth, gasping, his tongue slid in and he shoved her against the bars. Tentatively, she opened her eyes as his tongue began to plunder her mouth, to see his darkened, angry eyes boring into hers. The kiss continued on, and soon Emma was running out of air. Every time she tried to open her mouth to gulp in air, Hook pressed his lips more firmly onto hers and slid his tongue further into her mouth. Somehow, he still had plenty of air, but then he had been the one who had initiated it; he had probably taken a huge gulp of air before he started, or something.

A few more heartbeats passed by, and then Hook pressed on her throat, not lightly, but not heavily either, more with sort of a vicious control that cut off her remaining air. She felt panic begin to rise in her, but for the first time, she couldn't feel her magic.

That was when the real panic began.

A breathless heartbeat, and then another, passed, and finally, Emma sagged against the bars, feeling the lack of air begin to make her dizzy. Just as her vision darkened, Hook released her, and she collapsed in a heap on the ground. She had just enough of her consciousness left to pull the hood over her face once more before she lifted her head and retched.

"Let that be a lesson to you, Swan, to never do that again," Hook growled. "I do not tolerate disrespect, and it is about time you learned to respect me."

An angry retort along the lines of 'if you want my respect, you need to earn it' shot into her head, but as busy as she was, alternating between retching and panting for breath, she couldn't say it.

She also wasn't that stupid.

"Do you hear me, Swan?" he knelt down, hand hovering over her throat, and in an instant, Emma knew what he was going to do. He would choke her until she submitted. She looked him in the eye as evenly as she could, knowing she couldn't challenge him, but not willing to back down entirely either.

"Yes, Hook." he pressed against her now sore windpipe, and she winced.

"That's _Captain _to you," he growled. Without another word, he picked her up and bodily threw her back into the cell, locked it and turned on his heel once more.

Wiping off the droplets of blood clinging to her lip where Hook had bitten her, she once more cried herself to sleep.

**A/N: So, here we are again! I apologize, for those that have read/are reading my other two fics 'At Last' and 'Not Broken, Just Bent', since time I spend working on this new fic means time I'm not spending on the other ones; however, my inner muse does what it wants to do, and as I am a slave to it, I must obey.** **Anyways, reviews are like Captain Swan- they make me feel warm and fuzzy on the inside. Any review written, though I might not always respond to them, is valued and appreciated. Since my fics are un-betaed, if you lovelies could report back any typos or things like that, that would be awesome.** **I hope you enjoy!**


	2. I'd Rather Die Free

_She's got lions in her heart_

_A fire in her soul_

_He's got a beast in his belly_

_That's so hard to control_

_'Cause they've taken too much hits_

_Taking blow by blow_

_Now light a match, stand back, watch them explode_

Emma lurched awake as the jingling of a key echoed throughout the brig. Without even needing to look up, she knew from the quick, precise movements that it was Hook. Almost unconsciously, she adjusted her cloak, not noticing how Hook's eyes darkened in annoyance.

"Morning, _Hook," _Emma said pointedly, trying not to flinch when the pirate finished unlocking her cell door and started towards her. In one swift movement, he stepped in front of her, pressing none to gently down on her sore and most likely bruised windpipe.

"I'm the captain of this ship, Swan," Hook sneered. "It would do you well to address me as that." Releasing her throat, he turned on his heel and strode out of the cell, obviously meaning for the princess to follow as he did not re-lock the cell door. Grudgingly, Emma did, clambering stiffly to her legs and half-jogging after him in order to keep up with his longer strides. Once they were out, Hook turned once more to his companion.

"You'll be working in the galley again today," he said briefly, glaring into her eyes as if to dare her to say otherwise. Wisely, Emma kept silent. She had been taught court rules, among them diplomacy, and even though she had only been taught them for less than four years, and trying to stowaway on a pirate ship, being caught by and threatened by the captain of said ship was not exactly covered, she had a pretty good idea that to insult or mock him once more would not turn out well for her. Especially, she thought with an inward shiver, after what he had done last night. Her bottom lip was still cracked and a tiny bit bloody as she had a tendency to bit on her lip while she slept, and she was now almost certain her throat sported dark purple bruises in the form of fingerprints. However, there was one thing she would not do, despite all that had happened since she had been on the ship, and that was to back down completely. She kept her eyes on Hook's brilliant blue ones, keeping herself straight and tense in order not to quail from the intense darkness that swirled inside of them.

"Did you hear me, wench?" Hook asked coldly, leaning in closer. Emma just barely managed to not take a step backwards and kept herself still.

"Yes." she tugged her hood a little lower.

"Yes, _Captain_." Hook leaned even closer, so close she could feel his breath on her nose. Fear and anger warred within her, each trying to oust the other, but finally fear won, and Emma briefly flicked her eyes away.

"Captain." she took one step backwards, folding her hands like she had been taught in court, waiting for Hook to step away. A long moment passed with the pirate and the princess locked in a staring contest, before Hook finally turned away, effectively dismissing Emma. Relief flooding through her, she strode towards the galley, looking around briefly at the early morning sun before entering her new prison.

"Good morning, Jade," Tom said. Emma felt instantly guilty of thinking of the galley as her prison; Tom made it at least bearable, though the dark, almost dank galley with only a few portholes and a permanent stench of alcohol could definitely use some improvement.

"Morning, Tom," she replied, watching the man as he walked further back into the room and began the day's cooking. Sighing, Emma reluctantly followed.

"How is this?" Princess Emma asked, showing Tom her attempt at preparing that day's meat. He glanced over, evaluated it, and slowly nodded.

"That's a halfway decent job you did," he said approvingly. "Good job, Jade." It had been a week and a half since Emma had first gotten on the ship. A week of torture, Emma was inclined to think. She was living a lie; Tom knew her as Jade, a common street wench, while Hook knew nothing at all except her last name, Swan. Other than that, he knew nothing. _Definitely not for lack of trying, though, _the princess thought bitterly. He switched effortlessly from trying to seduce her, to threatening her, to choking or hurting her in some other way. At times, Emma wasn't even sure if he wanted to know who she was so badly he was willing to hurt her, or if he just liked threatening and hurting people for fun. She was inclined to think the latter. One thing was for certain, though; she needed to escape soon, or Hook would finally tire and rip her cloak off, instantly recognizing her as the Crown Princess of Snow White's kingdom.

Emma shoved the thought away, forcing a smile even as she felt a stab of guilt. Tom was the only one of the crew that even bothered to be nice to her; the rest either spat at her, or, in Hook's case, choked her, and she felt a little bad to be repaying Tom's kindness with lies and deceit, but she didn't trust him yet; if he knew she was actually Prince Charming and Snow White's child, he could easily rat her out to Hook, who would ransom her in a heartbeat, she just knew it. Unconsciously, she readjusted her cloak, something that was becoming more and more a habit, an instinct. Of course, this time Tom noticed.

"Why don't you take off your cloak?" he asked. Emma shook her head.

"I'd rather not." she said shortly. Surprisingly, Tom just nodded, turning back to start chopping something.

"I understand."

"What do you understand?" a new, sharp, accented voice cut across their conversation. Emma instantly froze even as annoyance started to spike up. _Seriously? Hook had to follow her even to the galley? Would she get not even a few hours without having to hear his (admittedly lilting and soothing to listen to when he wasn't threatening her) voice? _Apparently not.

"Why Captain, how nice of you to grace our presence," Emma said as sarcastically as she dared, trying to shoot laser beams out of her eyes underneath her cloak.

"I asked a question, wench," Hook shot back.

"We were just talking about why Jade here left her old home," Tom said calmly, but Emma winced. Hook now knew her 'real' name, which was not all that wonderful, and Hook might even try to question her as to exactly why she had left her old home, seeing as he hadn't believed her first answer.

"Jade?" Hook asked. "What a lovely name." Emma rolled her eyes. _Sure, that was exactly what he thought. Lovely name, that's all. _

"Is there something you need?" Tom asked respectfully, but there was a hard edge to his tone that suggested he actually didn't want to know the answer to the question.

"Aye." Hook said, staring directly at Emma, who swallowed. From the look on the captain's face, it wasn't for a good purpose. Before she could protest, Hook had grabbed onto her forearm and half-dragged her out of the galley.

"What do you want?" Emma asked once they were in the cabin, though part of her already knew. Despite what he had said on her first night on the ship about never taking an unwilling woman, she knew better than to believe it for a moment.

"First, for you to treat me with some respect, _Jade,_" Hook growled, accenting her 'name' in a way that told her he didn't believe it was in actuality her name. "Second... I want information." Emma gave him a blank look.

"Information."

"Don't try to pull the wool over my eyes, _darling,_" Hook said coldly. "I know there's more to you than meets the eye," he raised an eyebrow pointedly at her cloak, "And I want to know exactly who I'm dealing with."

"Who I am is my concern only," the princess shot back. She knew she couldn't get away with lying to Hook anymore than he could (Her magical abilities included the ability to always know when someone was lying), and there was no way she was going to say, 'Oh yeah, I'm the daughter of Prince Charming and Snow White who ran away'.

"When you tried to stowaway on my ship, you made it my concern as well." He crossed over to the door, shutting it firmly, leaving Emma with no escape options unless she wanted to go and throw herself out the porthole. At the moment, that wasn't such a bad idea. Better than to die trying than to live as an eternal slave to her would-be murderer. Though, she probably wouldn't live that long with that choice either.

"I told you already, Hook. I'm a poor street wench that tried to stowaway on your ship to be able to start a new life."

"Don't lie, darling. Lies don't become you."

"Like you would know that when you haven't even seen my face." she froze. That was the wrong thing to say. _Stupid. So stupid, Emma. _

"Perhaps you would be so kind to take off that cloak and show me it, then?" Hook asked, a false pleasant tone to his voice.

"In your dreams."

"Oh, no, princess. In reality." Once again, the princess froze for a fraction of a second when he said princess, before telling herself to stop it. It was a pet name, just like love or darling, that Hook used habitually. Nothing to get worried about.

What was worrying, was that Hook was reaching towards her in an attempt to take off her cloak.

_This isn't going to end well, _Emma thought. She reached inside herself, summoning up her magic until she needed it; she would rather not have Hook know about her magical abilities, but if all else failed, she would use it as a last resort. Right as his fingers touched the edge of her hood, Emma kicked his legs, sweeping them to one side in an attempt to trip him. Caught off guard, Hook landed hard on his side, but before she could reach the door, was struggling back up with a curse.

Willing Hook to slow down, Emma heaved the heavy door open with the captain right on her heels and shot out. _Where can I go to now? _She didn't particularly want to throw herself overboard, but she couldn't see any other option. During the day, they had spotted several other ships, and one was just within viewing distance (She had a feeling the pirates were trying to avoid it on purpose); though her chances of actually getting to the ship were slim, she would rather die than go back and get married to her near murderer. Simply put, she had a chance of dying either way; she preferred to take the one where it was her choice whether she lived or died.

Sprinting towards across the deck, she leaped up onto the railing and stayed there for one perfect moment, throwing her cloak off, before she tensed her muscles and dived.

"SWAN!" Hook's voice followed her downwards, giving her a strange sense of satisfaction that she could make him that furious right as the icy bite of the ocean water hit her body.

Gasping for breath, Emma broke the surface. She already knew this was a bad idea, but even if she drowned, at least... at least she would drown free. Taking a deep breath, she started swimming with sure strokes (It wasn't for nothing that she was called the _Ice _Princess) towards the direction she had last seen the ship.

_Well, Emma. This was not a good idea. You should get a trophy for 'Most Reckless Decision of the Year' or something. _

Seriously, did the water have to be so cold? Ice Princess, indeed. She was pretty sure that if she was taken out of the water right now, it would slowly freeze, turning her into an ice sculpture. Maybe trying to do this in October hadn't been the best idea after all...

She had heard somewhere, that if you're in cold water for too long, you can go unconscious, especially if you're wearing light clothing, which she was. Taking another couple strokes and trying not to freeze, she sighed inwardly. If Hook didn't recognize her at first sight, maybe she could have refused to say anything, or even if he had, she could have escaped some other way. Instead, she had leaped into freezing water where she would probably go unconscious and die in.

Before she could get much further, she heard a splash behind her. Either some sort of sea monster about to eat her, or Hook had jumped in to drag her back, which was unlikely, since he had wanted to kill her from the first moment he had seen her. And even if he had, it wouldn't be from the goodness in his heart. He didn't even have goodness _in _his heart, she was sure that if she had taken it out it would be pure black (not that she would do that, that was dark magic and she liked to stay away from dark magic). Personally, she almost hoped it was a sea monster. Her chances were probably better with that thing than with Hook. And her death would probably be quicker with that thing.

Without looking back to confirm who it was, she kept swimming, maybe a little faster, maybe not. Behind her, she heard splashing, then more splashing, and knew that whatever it was, it was coming after her. It was still a bit distant, though, so she had maybe a couple minutes at most to get away, depending on if it was Hook or not.

"Swan!" Okay, that was most definitely Hook. And not a happy one at that. She could imagine what reason he had to save her; he probably only wanted her to die under his hand, his ego couldn't stand her dying under her own. Or he wanted to use her for something. It _had _been several days since his last stay at a port... The ship had an understandably short supply of willing females that Hook could use.

She tried quickening her strokes, but the water was beginning to get to her; it made her lightheaded and dizzy and she knew it was only a matter of minutes before she fell unconscious. Hopefully, she would die before Hook got to her. She had not known him for long, but the unsettling darkness in his eyes made it clear what he could do, and she would rather fall unconscious and die peacefully than get raped and tortured however Hook felt like.

But Hook was getting closer quickly, and her vision was starting to black around the edges. She knew she was fighting a losing battle, but she wasn't willing to give up without a fight.

The timer on how much longer she could fight, though, was beginning to tick downwards to her final minutes. Struggling to get her head above water, the princess held herself aloft as long as she could, her strokes weak and becoming weaker as her body began to shut down.

"No..." she whispered weakly, hearing Hook come closer and closer.

Right as she lost consciousness, she felt a strong pair of arms wrap securely around her.

_Safe. _

Then everything faded into blackness.

When she woke up, it was to the gentle rocking of the ship and a soft sea breeze that blew out an open porthole. Cautiously, she opened one eye, then the other, and gasped as she realized one tiny detail; she wasn't in the brig. She was in the Captain's cabin.

"Sleeping beauty finally awakens," an almost amused voice said to her right.

"Not like I had any say in it," Emma muttered. She looked over at Hook, who had his usual dark, sardonic expression on. He stalked slowly towards her, boots clicking on the wooden floor, and even through the sleep-induced muddled fogginess of her brain a stab of fear assaulted her. She gazed up defiantly at him, trying to cover her fear, but something told her he had seen through it.

"Now, _Jade, _would you like to tell me _what," _he stepped closer, "_Exactly," _even closer, "_That was?" _Emma tilted her head, feigning confusion even though she knew full well exactly what he asking.

"What what was?" she queried innocently. Hook grabbed her shoulders and shook her.

"You know exactly what I mean." he growled.

Emma closed her eyes as he gave her another shake, re-addling her already tired brain.

"In my experience, people don't just jump off ships." Emma opened her eyes to see his own ocean blue ones barely an inch away. "Unless they have something to hide. So tell me, love, what are you hiding that you don't want me to know?"


	3. Just who are you, Swan?

"Morning, Hook," the Swan girl snapped pointedly as he unlocked her cell. In one swift movement, he stepped in front of her, grasping her milky white throat and pressing down on it. Before she could get too out of breath, he stepped back once more, stormy eyes fixed on her.

"I'm the captain of this ship, Swan," he said with a hint of a sneer as she gasped and panted for breath. "It would do you well to address me as that." he turned on his heel and strode out of the cell, intending for the Swan girl to follow him but really not caring if she did or not. It wasn't like she could really go anywhere except into the waves, and he was certain that if she wandered out on deck, his men would be more than willing to... get to know her better.

Although he had never taken an unwilling woman, Captain Hook was not about to stop his men from doing that very same thing. Bad form, really. He might be over-strict in other matters- a weak captain was no captain at all- but he was not a fool, and he knew that to keep a band of pirates in line, only three things worked: rum, the lash, and women. Not necessarily in that order.

His thoughts were interrupted when the Swan girl's footsteps sounded besides his. He looked briefly at her, but like usual, her cloak obscured his vision of her hair, face, and body, something that annoyed him, but he wasn't about to go and rip it off because he wanted to see her face. He almost scoffed; the mere thought made him wonder if he was going soft.

"You'll be working in the galley again today," he snapped, glaring into the Swan girl's half-hidden green eyes in an attempt to both forget his previous thoughts and establish his authority.

He had rarely had so much trouble getting a man to obey him; that a women was still resisting him after last night's little incident almost defied reality. He had to admit she sparked his curiosity in a small way, but that could be easily overlooked. It was the women that were drawn to him, not the other way around.

"Did you hear me, wench?" Swan had been silent for longer than she should have. Experimentally, he leaned in closer, wondering if he really did have no effect on her. He was pleased to see her body tremble very slightly, as though she was fighting herself in order to stay still. Whether she wanted to step closer, or step backwards, he had no idea, and frankly didn't really care.

"Yes." she tugged her hood lower.

"Yes, _Captain_." Hook said pointedly, leaning in slightly closer.

"Captain." Swan stepped backwards a calm, measured step, or at least what she had probably meant for it to be one. In truth, it looked a little bit more like a nervous back-step. He gazed at her for a while, before he turned and strode away, just barely hearing Swan's barely audible sigh of relief, making a sardonic smirk slip into place for a moment before his mask replaced it.

He had to admit, the Swan girl had more fire in her than he had expected.

"Who are you?" he asked with a threatening scowl, blue eyes boring into green. Swan merely looked at him.

"Who are you?" he repeated, annoyed. No man had ever defied him this long; that a woman was doing so without flinching was...

He didn't know what it was. Foolish, definitely. Idiotic? Most certainly. But there was something more to her then plain foolishness; he could tell from the few times she had spoken to him that she was, in fact, intelligent- disrespectful, yes, but intelligent. He could tell she was smart enough to know exactly what he could do (the purple marks that marred her neck, and more recently, her shoulders from where he had dug his nails in probably helped in that respect), and he knew that she feared him. But despite the fear that he could always see in her green eyes, sometimes lurking in their depths, sometimes filled with it, she never backed down.

If he wasn't so certain she was hiding something, something important, he would almost find it remarkable.

He promptly shut that thought down. He was _Captain Hook, _the most infamous pirate in all the realms. He didn't find foolish young girls _remarkable. _

"I have told you many times, Captain. I am but a common street... wench," Swan replied evenly. But even though she _sounded _honest, there had to be something more, else she would tell him her real name, how old she was, reveal her face...

The only reason he _hadn't _torn her cloak off was because he wasn't that desperate for a woman. She would come to him eventually, just like they always did. He didn't need to see her face to make her succumb to him.

"I see no point in going through this interrogation once more," Swan told him almost coolly. "I have told you the truth every time you asked for it." Hook sighed. Threatening hadn't worked with her. Perhaps he was bored, perhaps it had been too long since his last fling, but he found himself leaning towards her, resisting the urge to smile when he saw her own body tremble and move almost imperceptibly backwards. "Indeed, lass, we could easily be doing..." he slowly began to lean closer to her, a slow smirk spreading across his face. "Much more... enjoyable activities, don't you think?" he leaned closer still, so close he could feel her breathing speed up and whoosh across his face.

"Does that line... work on every girl... you know?" Swan asked, remarkably evenly, but he could tell she was affected by him no matter how hard she tried (and mostly succeeded) at not showing it.

Hook turned his head slightly and nibbled lightly on her ear, enjoying how her body shuddered. "Aye," he purred seductively. "Why don't you take that hood off so I can see just how lovely you are, darling?" The Swan girl stepped backwards, but stumbled, ending up against the door of his cabin, and he followed, pinning her against the wall.

"Let me treasure you, love," he added, pressing a kiss to her jaw and slowly working his way down her neck. When his lips touched her throat, Swan stiffened and he pulled back slightly. They stared at each other for a moment, Swan's rapid breathing the only indication of her duress.

Hook leaned back in, planning on repeating his earlier actions, but was stopped by a surprisingly strong arm pushing him backwards. Taken off guard, he staggered a step back, eyes narrowing.

"Don't touch me." Swan snapped, and Hook had to work to keep his surprise off his face. Not only did she stand up to him, she managed to resist him as well? It wasn't that he didn't affect her- he could easily tell he did, she seemed to be able to resist him even when her body didn't want to.

Once more, he felt that strange pull, and once more he ignored it. He was _not _going soft and he was not drawn to her. She was simply a foolish, ignorant woman that couldn't see how she could so easily be involved in more enjoyable activities if she had simply let him.

"Why, don't be so eager, lass," he replied, leaning closer to her again and raising an eyebrow.

"Eager my ass."

"Was that an invitation?"

"No, and you know that full well."

He leaned in closer. "Perhaps you could stop sending in mixed signals, milady?"

"Seriously? _I'm _sending mixed signals?" All of a sudden, annoyance flared up. She was speaking to him like to an equal; it was about time she learned he was the captain, not she. He pressed himself up against her, only distantly noticing her heartbeat skyrocketing, and fingered the edge of her hood.

"You forget, _Swan, _I am the captain, not you. And on this ship, you obey my rules." Swan was trembling now, whether from fear or anticipation he had no idea. "So if I ask you to take your hood off..."

"I would respectfully decline." Hook laughed without humor.

"You think you can resist my orders, but the only reason I have not yet taken your hood off myself is because you're simply _not worth it._" Swan flinched at his last words, and for a moment Hook almost felt bad for doing so; it was obvious she had been told she wasn't worth it many times throughout her life. _Are you Captain Hook or not? The women come to you, not the other way around. _

"You're not worth it, and you never will be. It would do you well to remember that." he stepped backwards, and Swan wasted no time, opening the door and fleeing. He made no move to stop her.

It had been a little over a week since the Swan girl had come onto his ship, and frankly, Hook was getting bored. Every day he alternated between threatening, seducing, and making good on his threats, but all he ever got out of her was the same answer: she was a street girl, born and bred.

He almost believed it, but then he saw the flare of panic in her half-hidden green eyes whenever he so much as touched her hood, and knew she was lying. No common street wench would be afraid about revealing her identity.

Almost unconsciously, he found himself heading towards the galley, then shrugged and kept walking. He entered just in time to here Swan's voice mutter, "I'd rather not."

Tom replied, "I understand," and Hook's curiosity was instantly piqued. Had Swan told Tom her true identity?

"What do you understand?" he asked. Swan turned to him, and he caught a flash of irritation in her half-hidden expression.

"Why Captain, how nice of you to grace our presence," she said, an edge of sarcasm to her tone, and he had to fight over whether to smirk at her or choke her. He opted for simply snapping, "I asked a question, wench."

"We were just talking about why Jade here left her old home," Tom said. Hook's ears perked even as he caught Swan's - no, Jade's- wince. He was instantly certain that was her name; it was obvious she didn't want him to know.

"Jade?" he asked, "What a lovely name."

"Is there something you need?" Tom asked in what was probably supposed to be a respectful tone but came out hard.

"Aye." he stared directly at Jade, whose creamy neck was partially covered, though not enough to hide how she swallowed. Without giving her any time to make the protest she was probably thinking up even then, he grabbed her forearm and forcibly dragged her out of the galley.

"What do you want?" Jade asked, looking annoyed but fearful at the same time.

"First, for you to treat me with some respect, Jade," Hook snapped. "Second, I want information." Jade gave him a blank look, though she looked surprised. She had probably been expecting him to rape her, but he wasn't about to stoop that low. Women came to him, not the other way around.

"Information."

"Don't try to pull the wool over my eyes, darling. I know there's more to you than meets the eye, and I want to know exactly who I'm dealing with."

"Who I am is my concern only."

"When you tried to stowaway on my ship, you made it my concern as well." he noticed her fleeting glance towards the porthole, but thought nothing of it. She had probably just seen a bird.

"I told you already, Hook. I'm a poor street wench that tried to stowaway on your ship to be able to start a new life."

"Don't lie, darling. Lies don't become you."

"Like you would know that when you haven't even seen my face." he smirked, slowly raising an eyebrow.

"Perhaps you would be so kind to take off that cloak and show me it, then?"

"In your dreams."

"Oh, no, princess. In reality. You forget, I'm the captain on this ship, not you." he reached towards her, but like usual, she surprised him, this time by kneeing him in the groin.

She turned and ran, leaving Hook to struggle to his feet through the pain racing up and down his body. Distantly, he wondered exactly what she was planning to do. It wasn't like she was about to jump overboard, was she?

He followed her out the door, gaining speed as the pain began to diminish. Jade leaped up on the rail, throwing her cloak off, and for a moment, he felt the tiniest twinge of panic.

"SWAN!" he bellowed, racing after her. She glanced briefly behind her and jumped.

Annoyance flared up in him even as he grabbed a rope, handing one end to Smee and tying the other around himself, before following her overboard. He flinched as soon as he hit the water; the mid-October weather was certainly not the best time for a nice swim. He could see Jade already beginning to slow as the icy coldness of the water began to get to her.

_Foolish girl. _For some reason, he felt angry- not just annoyed that she had jumped overboard, therefore forcing him to either jump after her or lose information (and also the chance to trade her at some slave market, perhaps), but angry that she was stupid enough to actually go through with it.

"Swan!" he yelled, quickening his strokes in order to reach her before she fell unconscious and therefore making him have to work that much harder to get her back on the ship. Right before he reached her, he saw her body begin to slump.

"No..." she mumbled as her eyes began to close. He wrapped an arm securely around her, surprised when her body relaxed against his, before telling himself she had simply fallen unconscious. She'd probably relax with her head against a volcano, he thought dryly. Turning, he motioned for Smee to bring them in.

Once onboard, he adjusted his hold, carrying her princess-style into his cabin. Perhaps a little more gently than was absolutely necessary, he lay her down on his bed, finally allowing himself a good look at Jade's face.

What he saw almost made his jaw drop open in shock.

He had always known she was reasonably attractive, at least from the time he had kissed her; even though she had disguised her face well with mud, he could still tell she was. But this... this was beyond simply attractive.

He had always thought he was into brunettes- Milah was proof of that- but now all he could think of was blondes. She was young, probably only about 18, with pale, creamy skin and blonde hair that, though it was in unattractive strands, somehow looked beautiful.

_And you call yourself Captain Hook? _He shook himself out of his daze. Sure, she was pretty (a goddess, one part of his mind whispered), but she had yet the innocence of a virgin about her. She'd be absolutely no good in bed, he was sure, which was why he shouldn't even be giving her a second glance.

Determinedly, he turned away, busying himself with other things until he heard her breathing change.

"The sleeping beauty finally awakens," he said, spinning around, instantly regretting it a moment later. Jade looked, if possible, even more beautiful awake; her green eyes bright and alert, a slight flush coming into her pale cheeks.

"Not like I had any say in it," Jade responded, sounding disgruntled as she absently combed through her hair. He stared at her for a moment, tilting his head, and stalked towards her.

Something about her looked strangely familiar...

"Now, Jade, would you like to tell me _what_," he stepped closer, "_Exactly_," even closer, "_That was_?"

"What what was?"

"You know exactly what I mean." he started shaking her. "In my experience, people don't just jump off ships," Jade's eyes began to close. "Unless they have something to hide. So tell me, love, what are you hiding that you don't want me to know?"

"Nothing." Jade mumbled. "I've told you before what I am."

"Then why were you afraid to let me see your face?"

"I'm not a fool, Captain. I know what pirates do to women. Even unwilling ones." she opened her eyes. "I know I'm more attractive than most women..." she paused. "It is that strange that I would wish to not be raped?"

"I've told you I never take an unwilling woman." Jade tilted her head, giving him a look.

"You and I both know that's a lie. And even if it isn't, I'm certain you don't hold your crew to the same ideal. I can imagine exactly what you'd do: hand me over to them and watch as they fuck me." Hook, for once in his life, couldn't think of a good response. She was right. Every word of what she had said was true.

But, it also made sense. Any young, innocent woman that was so eager to get away she was willing to go on a pirate ship would of course be sensible enough not to show her face. Or any part of her a man might like.

The question was: why had she chosen _his _ship to run away on?

"Why my ship?" he finally asked.

"I just closed my eyes and picked," Jade said.

"You and I both know that's a lie," he responded, mimicking her words from earlier. "Only desperate people get on pirate ships. Just who are you running from, Jade?"

He hadn't realized he was leaning towards her until Swan shifted backwards until her back was against the wall.

"I'm touched to know you care, Hook," she said, effectively snapping him from the daze he had been slowly falling under.

He reached towards her throat. "That's _Captain _to you, wench."

He stood up, aborting his intended throttle, suddenly too close to her. Something strange kept happening whenever he was near her. He felt... different, for a moment. _Just what was this wench doing to him? _

"If you don't start treating me with respect, you aren't going to like what I can do to you."

_I need to get this girl away from me before something happens. _

"Because, you see, you get a higher price for a woman that's not a virgin... less blood when you fuck her. Bad form, really."

There was a pregnant pause.

_"You're selling me into slavery?"_


	4. Change in the Air

_"You're selling me into slavery?" _For a moment, the room spun in front of her. Emma couldn't believe her ears. She had, of course, expected Hook to do _something _bad to her; rape her, perhaps, or give her over to his men. She had never expected him to simply sell her into slavery.

"Why so surprised, lass? I thought you expected me to fuck you." Emma tilted her head, staring intently into his brilliant blue eyes. Something seemed different about him; almost like he didn't entirely want to do this. _He just wants to keep you for himself, but money talks, _she thought wryly.

"I expected _you _to fuck me. Not to give me to a bunch of strangers for a paltry sum of gold." Hook chuckled darkly.

"I assure you, lass, a woman as beautiful as you would get more than a paltry sum of gold. I could practically ask a princesses's ransom for you, darling." he reached towards her, almost absently twirling a lock of still-wet hair around his fingers. Emma slapped his hand away, but it only served to make him loosen his hold on her hair and move downwards to touch just below her shoulder, hovering right over her breast. She shuddered reflexively.

"And here I thought you'd simply keep me for yourself. I thought a true pirate captain got the best... loot." As much as she hated calling herself loot, it was true, at least to Hook. _Loot was all she's ever been, _a voice whispered in her head, one, which she quickly shoved downwards. She shifted her gaze downwards to stare at the red and brown bedspread, hoping Hook couldn't see the pain laced in her eyes. Even her parents, in her eyes, had seen her as loot. Perhaps it was cruel to think that way, because she could tell that her parents did love her dearly, but in a way, no one ever saw her as anything other than the Crown Princess Emma, not even her own parents. She had simply gone to a new level since a month ago.

If she had stayed behind, she'd be officially of age to be married, and maybe even now would be in a white dress, holding hands with Neal as they said their wedding vows. The mere thought left a bitter taste in her mouth, but she had more pressing matters to consider, such as being sold as a slave in what would probably be less than a week from now.

Hook's eyes darkened. "You're hardly the best loot, darling," he said cuttingly, and Emma tightened her jaw, willing her eyes not to glass over.

_"Neal? What are you doing? I thought you loved me."_

_"You're hardly the best I could do, Emma. The crown princess of Snow White's kingdom? Why have you if I could do so much better?" _

"I'm surprised you think gold is more valuable than the pleasure I might give you. Unwillingly give you, yes, but it would be pleasure anyways."

"Gold can buy the services of women far more adept than you at giving pleasure," he stated. Emma opened her mouth to object, but closed it. She could think of nothing to say to that. Why was she even trying? No matter how terrible her new master was, she doubted he could be more terrible than Hook. Also, she'd have a better chance of escaping on land than in this ship. So why was she trying to stay here? Tom had become something of a friend, to be sure, but she would never stay just for that.

"Cat got your tongue?" she had been silent for too long; Hook's smug smirk was beginning to grow.

"I suppose you'll be taking me down to the brig shortly," Emma said quietly. She slowly began to slide off the bed, but as soon as she stood up, her legs buckled and she ended up on the ground.

No, that wasn't quite right. She was _supposed _to end up on the ground. Instead, she found herself encircled by a strong pair of arms. A dark chuckle sounded by her ear and she checked the urge to shiver, although goose bumps erupted on her bare arms. Her eyes widened as she realized she wasn't in the dress she had fled from the palace in. She was in a huge, black sailor's shirt that barely skimmed her thighs. _This is bad. This is very, very bad. _

"No need to be so eager, lass. You'll have plenty of opportunities to get on your knees in front of me yet." Emma struggled against his grip, but he merely laughed again, tightening his grip. With a desperate shove, she finally freed herself and spun around to face him, surprised when his normally cerulean eyes almost instantly darkened. She stared into them, confused. She'd never before heard of a man's eyes turning-

Hook crashed into her, lips pressing roughly into hers, hand skimming her backside. Somehow, she once more found herself pinned to a wall (she spent entirely too much time with her back to a wall, in her opinion) while a dark-haired, blue-eyed pirate plundered her mouth. His tongue ran expertly between her lips, and without thinking Emma opened them, allowing him full access to her mouth, which Hook quickly availed himself of. His hand was everywhere- her neck, her hip, her side- and she felt a haze begin to settle over her as she relaxed into Hook's hold. Her consciousness began to dim slightly, the part of her that shouted to make Hook stop doing _this_ being overruled by the part that whispered _let him_, but when his hand skimmed back upwards, caressing her cheek, the haze broke. Both princess and pirate froze, the pirate pulling backwards, and the princess tilting her head downwards and away from Hook at the same time.

"I'll escort you to the brig now." his voice was the slightest bit unsteady and hurried.

"In nothing but a shirt?" hers trembled.

"That a problem, darling?" He recovered quickly, azure eyes returning back to normal, his posture straightening and face becoming expressionless. She thought about answering _very much so,_ but she doubted telling the captain she'd rather not go outside so his crew could see her half naked would do anything good for her.

"Not at all, Captain." she answered with an edge of sarcasm. Hook grabbed her forearm without looking at her and began to drag her out his cabin until they reached the brig.

"You'll report to the galley at the usual time tomorrow," Hook informed her, before turning the key and spinning on his heel.

Emma collapsed onto the bed, willing the unshed tears that sprang to her eyes away.

The next day, as she stepped out onto the deck behind Hook, she heard a crewman shout, "Land ho!" and froze. Was this the port Hook intended to sell her off at? Would the next one be? The one after that?

"Don't worry, darling. We're merely stopping to resupply. We shouldn't get to the slave trading port before five days, more if the weather isn't favorable." she nodded her thanks even as annoyance shot up in her. Why did Hook have to be so annoyingly perceptive? It was like he could tell exactly what she was thinking by looking at her face for a moment. He was the only person that had ever been able to do it; growing up first on the streets and then in court, she had learned early on not to let anyone tell what she was thinking. Her skill at hiding her emotions had only increased after Neal, until not even her own parents could tell what she was thinking.

Yet somehow, Hook could read her as easily as an open book. Today hadn't been the first day he had done so, either. Every day when he had questioned her, he had always pushed just the right amount, and had it been under normal circumstances, she would've snapped. He always seemed to be able to tell what she was thinking, and it unnerved her.

It would've unnerved her even if he hadn't been a cruel, murderous, black-hearted pirate with a knack for making innuendos and making good on his numerous threats.

"Where are we?" she knew it was a dangerous thing to ask, especially as Hook seemed to be in an even worse mood than usual, but she needed to know. Hook turned to her, brilliant sea-blue eyes dark in a different way from last night, but, at least to Emma, not much more threatening.

"Keep your mouth shut, wench," he snapped, his eyes like a stormy gale. He turned back around, and Emma followed him back to the galley, thankful that Hook had given her a pair of sailor's trousers as well as the shirt- even though they didn't fit at all, with a belt she at least managed to keep herself covered.

A few steps from the galley, Emma staggered a few steps, her knees suddenly weakening as her food-deprived body began to protest against moving.

Once more, as she began to fall, she found herself wrapped in Hook's arms. How he had managed to turn around so fast and catch her, she had no idea.

"Now, now, darling, I know I'm devilishly handsome, but don't go weak at the knees for me. There's work to be done." Emma turned her head and shot him a glare as she once more struggled to get free; strangely enough, Hook only chuckled and loosened his arms. Without looking back, Emma fled into the comfort of the galley, breathing a sigh of relief as she entered into safety.

The rest of the day and night passed uneventfully by, the only thing breaking the monotony being when the _Jolly Roger _made port in the late afternoon. As Emma lay in her tiny cot that night, she fantasized about breaking free and slipping off the _Jolly _and making a living on the streets, free at last and well able to defend herself for once. Eventually, however, she sighed. Obviously, that wasn't going to happen; even if the Captain wasn't watching her like a hawk, her cell was locked at all times and she could sense the presence of a crewman outside her door.

Even though she knew she could easily pick the lock off her cell, given her upbringing, her magic was still largely unpredictable, and she doubted that she could take down the entire crew, or even half of the crew, depending on how many had already gone into taverns. With a sigh, Emma rolled over, giving up on the thought of escaping and, closing her eyes and willing her mind to shut down, she ordered herself to go to sleep.

Her eyes snapped open several sleepless hours later to the sound of shouting and pounding footsteps. Straining, the princess put her ear to one wall, then to her cell bars, but she could only make out snatches.

"...ransom..."

"Princess Emma..."

She stiffened and shot upwards, her expression horrified. Had they seen a wanted poster for her? Had they realized their stowaway was the Princess herself, just waiting to be taken back home?

Emma pressed a hand to her forehead, willing herself to think logically. Obviously, they had heard some news about a missing princess and decided they wanted to find her. She could only imagine how much gold her parents had put for the safe return of their beloved daughter; easily much more than what it would be for selling her into slavery. However, Hook hadn't come pounding into the brig to confirm if it was, indeed, Princess Emma with a sailor's attire on; he must not have seen a poster of her, then. Why were his men shouting about it, though? She could only imagine the amount of gold it must be for a pirate crew to get excited about. _Perhaps Hook was certain it was her and hadn't bothered to go and check, _a tiny voice piped up, which she quickly silenced as a set of quick, hurried footsteps sounded in her direction, making her panic instantly. Hook. It had to be. He was coming to hold a ransom poster up to her, to make sure it was indeed her before they set back to her kingdom to ransom her.

"Wench!" not Emma, she noted. Or Princess. Strange.

Hook threw the door open and grabbed the key for her cell. Without saying a word, he grabbed her forearm and began to tug her outwards.

"Where are you taking me?" Hook didn't reply, remaining silent as he hurriedly led her to his cabin.

"When they come in, you are going to tell them nothing, or if you must, you'll tell them you're my wife."

"Your _wife?" _

"Out of everything I've said, you have a problem with acting as my wife?"

So Hook must have figured it out that she's the princess. A search party must be coming through every vessel as it docked, and Hook probably didn't want to try and explain why he had the princess on his ship (a pirate ship at that) with men's clothes on. Completely understandable.

"Why should I do this? What reason do I have to not tell them what's been done to me?" Hook looked at her, his eyes stormy and dark.

"Because, if you tell them of my true intentions regarding you..." Hook lifted his namesake. "I'm not afraid to use this. Even in this port town, slavery is frowned upon." Interesting. He was still intending to sell her away. Why do that to a princess when you could ransom her? He must not know she's the princess, after all, Emma realized. She felt a flood of relief surge into her system.

"Captain? Who's this wench?" Emma's head snapped towards the sound as a small group of men came onboard. The investigators, Emma thought, as she stepped further into the shadows to conceal her face. Hook, on the contrary, surged forwards, grabbing the collar of the leader of the search band who had just come into his cabin.

"Did you just come onto my ship without my permission to insult my lady? Apologize to the lady, _mate._" Emma had to work to keep her expression neutral and her face in the shadows. Hook definitely didn't do anything by halves, she thought, with a thread of amusement.

"I... I'm sorry," the man stammered, and Hook let him go, his expression still fierce. "We're just here for anything suspicious, and we're um... not used to ladies wearing men's clothes." Hook gave the poor man a sardonic smirk.

"Sometimes, in the heat of the moment, the hook can just... slip, you know?" Emma had no idea whether he meant it as a threat to the man or as a suggestion that Hook and her had had... sex, but either way, she didn't particularly like the sentence. From the look on the man's face, he didn't know either, and also didn't particularly want to know. He quickly left, ordering his men to search through the rest of the ship, and soon, they got off, making Emma breath a silent sigh of relief. After a few seconds of silence, Hook turned back to her, and once more roughly grabbing her forearm, led her back to the brig, where she spent the rest of the night shifting in fitful sleep.

"Three warships to port and coming up quickly!" a crewman cried, startling Emma from her thoughts. Captain Hook lowered his spyglass to one eye and huffed in exasperation.

"They have white flags, so we might as well hear them out. Keep a low profile and all." the last part was much quieter, almost a mumble that Emma barely heard.

Within an hour, the captain of the largest of the three ships had boarded and told them fatal news; until the lost princess Emma was found, the route had been closed off. Hook would have to go a different route.

Emma watched as Hook silently fumed the entire rest of the afternoon; she heard him and Smee converse about how much longer it would take (Two weeks, or more, Hook had grumbled) then heard Hook call the new set of directions, before he turned to her and locked her back up in the brig.

A day passed, with a noticeable difference; as Tom had told her she was good enough to cook alone, Emma only worked in the galley in the mornings. As a consequence, she now spent her afternoons out on deck while Tom worked down below.

Also, as a consequence of that, she found herself reluctantly spending a lot more time in Hook's presence.

"You're up here early," Hook commented the first day of the arrangement, glancing at her as she walked up.

"Tom told me I was good enough to take the morning shift alone. He offered to take afternoon shift."

"So eager to spend time with me, lass? You know, if you want to get closer to me you just have to ask, no need to use that as an excuse." Emma resisted the urge to roll her eyes and simply huffed, knowing how easily Hook could be set off- he was a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode.

"Is there anything you want me to do other then stay in the brig all day?"

"Do you have a problem with that, lass? I'd rather not have to try and fish you out from the ocean a second time." Emma opened her mouth to reply, but a sudden gust of wind rocked the ship violently. The princess swayed, and would have fell, if not for Hook's arms once more encompassing her body.

"Get down to the brig, _now_." Hook hissed, his tone dark and urgent. More surprised by the lack of an innuendo than by the rapidly brewing storm itself, she stayed still for a moment, still wrapped in his arms, until Hook sighed and added impatiently, "Or do I have to carry you there myself?" broken from her trance, Emma struggled free of his grasp and started for the brig, surprised when Hook followed.

"What are you doing?"

"Making sure you don't throw yourself to the waves again. I've wasted too many provisions on you to not trade you off."

Once they got down to the brig, Hook made sure to close the porthole before locking her into the cell, leaving Emma once more alone in the almost complete darkness; the rapidly darkening sky she could just barely see out of a porthole not helping matters at all. She briefly considered trying to pick the lock, but what would she do then? Throw herself to the waves? True, Hook wanted to sell her into slavery, but she felt confident she could think up a different escape then one by water.

The ship heaved and rocked, and Emma's stomach mimicked the movement, making her grateful she hadn't eaten anything that morning. She sat down on the tiny cot, holding her knees to her chest in the near darkness of the brig, and for the first time since leaving the palace, sitting behind bars in a pirate's jail, she felt remorseful. Before then, she had only ever felt regret. Regret for getting on the wrong ship, regret for every wrong decision she had made afterwards, but now, she started to regret leaving the palace at all. She felt certain that her parents truly loved her, and if she had ever actually told them what Neal had done, she felt sure they would have called off the engagement, or at the very least, helped her get away from Neal. She felt an ache begin in her heart as for the first time she could remember, she missed someone.

_"Emma, home is a place that when you leave, you_just miss it_." _

A single tear ran its lonely path down the princess's cheek, another slowly following it down. She missed the way Snow White would always sing her a lullaby when she went to bed. She missed the way her father, Prince Charming, would always give her a kiss on her forehead as she retired for the night. She missed the way Ruby, her godmother, always gave her an exaggerated hug whenever she saw her; it was one of the few times Emma could ever really remember laughing. Looking back, those were the only times she had ever really felt cherished- _loved_- by anyone. Emma sniffled, a third tear starting its downward trek. For years, she had never appreciated her parents, nor the few friends she'd had, and even though Snow and Charming had given her up at birth (to protect her, they had told her), they had come back for her and they had always wanted to be as close to her as they could be. Looking back now, she realized how ungrateful she had always been and wished now that she could go back and do things differently.

But now, now she had no chance. If she wasn't sold into slavery, she'd have to make her living once more on the streets; she would never find her way back to the palace once more. She'd never be able to tell her parents just how sorry she was for brushing them off all those years. _She'd never be able to tell them just how much they meant to her. _

The tears were coming faster now, and a sob rose up in her throat that she at first tried to muffle, before realizing there was no one there to hear her. Emma rocked from side to side, her sobs becoming louder and continuing on and on, even after the winds began to die down and the rain to quiet. She cried until she began to run out of tears to cry, not noticing the door to the brig had opened until she heard footsteps stop right outside her cell.

Instantly, Emma whipped around, wiping her eyes and straightening her back to beheld her visitor.

It was Hook. "What do you want? I stayed here like you asked and didn't throw myself to the waves, isn't that enough for you?" Hook stepped forward, gaze searing into hers. Strangely, it made her feel better, his anger holding her together.

"What I want is for you to treat me with respect! I'm your captain, you should act like it and not like you're some bloody princess!" Without waiting to see Emma's reaction, he spun on his heel and left, leaving the princess with a whirlwind of emotions to deal with.

She needed to be careful, that much was certain. She was too proud to let anyone better her; that would have to change unless she wanted to be taken back and ransomed.

Shivering in the gathering chill of the ship, Emma wrapped her blanket around herself and dropped off to sleep.

The next morning, Emma woke to a sore throat, a runny nose, and a chill.

Groaning, she shoved herself out of bed, determined to go on about her duties as before, no matter what Hook said. She slowly stood up, ignoring the pounding in her head and the fatigue that already plagued her muscles. Apparently, near-drowning had some really strange after-effects that only surfaced a couple days later.

As Hook's footsteps sounded in the room, Emma slowly turned her head, hoping she didn't look as awful as she felt. From the look on the pirate's face, though, she probably did.

"What are you doing up?" he asked, making Emma raise an eyebrow, mouth gaping open slightly in surprise. "You're sick, you should be in bed!" he unlocked the cell. "Let me help."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not." wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her back onto her cot surprisingly gently.

"So now you're going to be a gentleman?" she couldn't help it, the words slipping out of her mouth before she could stop them. Hook, however, just gave her a smirk.

"I'm always a gentleman, lass." even though his words were kinder than usual, his tone was anything but, remaining almost cold and belying his words.

"Why even bother to help me? I mean, I know fit slaves give you a better price, but couldn't you just send someone else down to do your dirty work?"

"Only I have the keys to the brig. And as for not helping you, why, that would be bad form." Pulling back, he watched as Emma grudgingly pulled the covers back over herself.

"Also, like you said, healthy slaves are always better priced." he turned around, beginning to exit the cell, tone remaining clipped and cool. "Now stay in bed. I'll have Tom bring you your meals, but tomorrow, you better be back up. This is a pirate ship, not a nursery."

Emma spent the rest of the day in bed, taking her meals with Tom and trying to nap. When the evening came however, Hook walked in carrying her dinner, and Emma gaped at him for a moment. Was he possessed or something?

"Why are you here?"

"Now, lass, don't be so eager," he drawled, opening the cell door. "Tom had his hands full with cooking." without Hook having to say another word, Emma understood. Hook didn't trust anyone except perhaps Tom to carry the keys to the brig and had come down to do his dirty work himself.

"How are you feeling? Any better?" he questioned, which Emma once more took at face value as a pirate wanting to make a fortune off a slave. She ignored the tiny hint of something else in his tone, something that sounded almost like worry, because it couldn't possibly be worry. _Captain Hook doesn't _worry_ about slave girls._

"Much, thanks," Emma lied smoothly, accepting the food. In truth, she felt like a walking corpse, but Hook expected her to be back on her feet the next morning. She couldn't afford to be weak.

Apparently, however, Hook could.

"You're lying."

"I am not."

"Darling, I know when someone's lying, and right now, you are." Emma heaved a sigh.

"Fine. I feel like hell. That make you feel any better, knowing that the great Captain Hook has a sickly wench on board that's good for absolutely nothing?" The princess sat up, instantly regretting it when a wave of nausea assaulted her senses. Hook set her plate down on the floor and steadied her, eyes widening when he touched her skin.

"You're burning up! Bloody hell, lass, what were you thinking?"

"That I'd rather die than spend one more second on this ship?" Emma murmured weakly. Hook sighed.

"A bloody nuisance, you are. I'll have to spend days nursing you back to health to get you ready for the trading." Emma closed her eyes, lying back down, unable to think up a good answer for that.

"Get some sleep. You'll mend faster that way and I'll have to spend less time babying you." With that, Hook stood up and left, leaving the plate of food behind in his wake.

Somehow, it was suddenly a lot easier to fall asleep.


	5. He Knows

"How are you feeling?" Emma jerked awake, instantly alert and ready. The few weeks at sea with Hook had made her survival instincts sharpen to an extent they never had before, something which Emma was weirdly grateful to him for- after all, there were times where your instincts could make the difference between death and life, especially if you were on the streets.

Emma sat up, determinedly shoving the wave of nausea that accompanied the movement away. "I'm fine," she told him, proud when she managed to not sound like she was dying. Hook just sighed, his cobalt eyes looking almost tired.

"You're lying."

"No, I'm not." he gave her a look. "I'm _fine,_" she added for emphasis.

Now he looked exasperated. "Bloody hell, will you just stop already?"

"_I'm fine._" personally, Emma was almost offended. Just because she was sick for one day, he thought she was weak? Well, she wasn't. She was a survivor; if she wasn't, she'd have died many years before. She knew how to take care of herself, and she absolutely did _not _need black-hearted pirate captains with gold in their eyes to actually have the gall to act _worried _about her.

Because she knew it was just an act.

Even if he wasn't a pirate captain, there was no chance he'd be worried about her. No one, except for her parents, had ever been _worried _about her. Her parents were related to her by blood, so they didn't really have a choice whether or not they wanted to care about her, in Emma's opinion.

Hook unlocked the cell, stepping forwards, still with that stupid worried look on his face, and Emma, fed up with being treated like the stuck-up, spoiled princess she had been treated like for the past four years, (and perhaps, just a little fed up with him trying to fool her into thinking he_cared, _because that was a base trick she would never, _ever _fall for again) sprang into motion. She leaped out of bed towards Hook, clawing at him as she went.

Logically, she knew there was really no good reason to do what she was doing. Hook could simply decide kill her now (she briefly wondered if that would be such a bad thing, before pushing the thought out of her mind), if he wanted to, and she'd have no way of stopping him in her unprotected, unwell state of being.

But Hook had a way of making her logic fly out the window. And not in a good way. If there even _was _a good way.

Hook, taken by surprise, let her fly at his face for a moment before he reacted. With quick, practiced movements, he grabbed her arms with one hand and snagged her shirt with his hook. Emma stiffened, expecting him to hit or strangle her, but he simply stared at her for a long moment. The princess got the uneasy feeling he was seeing more than just the green of her irises, but that was total foolishness, of course. She briefly debated struggling free from his strong grip and punching him in the face, but even if she managed to knock him out, where would she go then? To the waves? Besides, Hook had his namesake an inch away from her heart. Any sudden movements on her part could very well cost her her life.

Emma tilted her head as a strange new sound came to her ears; somewhere between a wheeze and a cough, she found it slightly unsettling.

Then she realized _she _was the source of that noise.

"Jade. You're sick." his tone was calm and measured, but not in the least harsh or threatening like she was accustomed to hearing. He seemed as though he was simply stating a fact, one that he really did not care about one way or the other.

"I'm-"

"No, you are _not _'fine'." his tone was more forceful now, cerulean eyes boring into her own. For once, she flicked her gaze away from his. "Why do you insist on being so bloody stubborn?"

"I'm not some pampered, spoiled, princess, you know." Emma stared back at him, now, shoving him away from her (was it just her, or did she seem to spend way too much time wrapped in Hook's arms?) as she glared defiantly back at him. A shadow of something passed over his eyes, so quickly she couldn't tell what it was, or even if it had been there. A moment passed in silence as blue eyes met green, both silently regarding the other, until finally the wheezing cough that had stopped a few seconds before started back up again, breaking the silence.

"Get back into bed, wench," Hook said, tone now becoming harsh and cold as he threw her back into bed. Emma who was, by then, too weak to protest out loud, still managed a nice glare at him as she hit the bed with a painful thud. There was another moment of silence, and then Emma's sick mind finally made a connection: She was lying down on a bed. Hook, who had not pulled away from her after throwing her on the bed, was less than 3 inches away from her. She could feel his body heat emanating from the leather, his warmth surrounding her, and suddenly the once chilly brig was much too hot.

From Hook's smirk, he could tell just how flustered she was.

"You're all red," Hook purred, looking way too pleased with himself.

"I'm sick," Emma told him blandly.

Hook looked at her for a moment. Something told the princess he didn't believe that her redness was not just about her sickness. He opened his mouth, then paused, looking as if he was about to say something else, before a knock sounded against the door.

"Captain?" that would be Smee.

"Not now, Smee," Hook replied irritably.

"But, Captain-"

"I said, not now." Hook's eyes turned stormy again, and any thoughts Emma might have had about Hook softening slightly were gone. He was all hard edges. His jaw clenched and his eyes darkened with annoyance, the fear Emma had for a moment dispelled returning back in full force. This man was dangerous. He was not someone you talked with unless you had a death wish.

Hook strode out of the cell, locking it quickly, and starting towards the door.

"What is it, Smee?" it might have sounded like a casual question, if not for Hook's near murderous tone. Smee shrank backwards.

"Captain, I just wanted to tell you about the ship to our-"

Hook shoved past him.

"Where?"

"Half a league to starboard."

"Flag?"

"King George, Captain."

Hook narrowed his eyes, seeming to consider something, before a cruel, sadistic smirk slid onto his face, the likes of which Emma had never seen before.

"Why don't we give them something to remember us by?" he started out the door, casually adding, "If, of course, there's anybody left once I've finished with them."

Emma hugged her knees to her chest, suppressing a cough as she thought. She had never before seen such an expression on Hook's face, and with all the threats he had issued to her, that was saying something. She had thought she had seen most of his expressions by now, but she had found she was gravely wrong. He had leered at her before, he had even threatened her before, but never had she seen an expression like that before. It was almost as if he had changed into a completely different person when he had heard the King's name. But why did his name invoke such wrath in the captain? What had the King ever done to him?

It could be that the King's men had often fought against him, therefore restricting his pirating in King George's kingdom, but the sadistic smirk Hook had sported seemed to hint that there was something more, something deeper, something... personal. Hook had seemed almost as if he didn't care how many of his men died as long as he managed to take down more of the King's men... it was definitely personal. But what reason would the pirate have to carry a personal vendetta against the monarch?

The princess sighed, flopping back down on the bed. Thinking would get her nowhere. It was probably just as useless to try and think it out as it was to ask Hook himself.

The distant sound of swords clashing resounded throughout the entire ship, making Emma sit back up, alert and watchful despite her fever. Helpless to do anything, the princess resigned herself for an hour or more of waiting, but as an hour passed without the sounds of battle diminishing too much, Emma began to get worried. Not for Hook, of course, but because she knew several of King George's lieutenants and captains. If one happened to spot her... Emma would rather not dwell on what might happen. They might hand her over to her parents (which, she had to admit, wasn't too bad of a deal) or, worse, to Neal himself, seeing as she was technically engaged to him.

The clashing of swords finally ceased, much to Emma's relief, giving way to raised voices, although she could make out only a fraction of the words. It seemed as though Hook had won, although what he was spending so long doing was a mystery to the blonde.

Several hours passed by with no news, and despite her sickness, Emma was growing restless. Finally, Tom walked in with her dinner, and Emma suppressed a sigh of relief.

"What happened?" she questioned, as the older man handed her her dinner through the bars.

"One of King George's warships," Tom replied. On second glance, Emma noticed his arm was bandaged.

"Is everyone alright?" in reality, the only person Emma cared about was Tom, but somehow the words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them. The man nodded.

"We have a few minor injuries, but nothing life threatening." Emma nodded. "So, when will you be joining me in the galley again?"

"Tomorrow," Emma replied shortly, relieved when Tom merely nodded.

"Good." he paused for a moment, then turned and strode back out of the brig.

"What are you doing up? You should be resting." Hook had been the last person she had expected to try and stop her from getting up, but here he was, dark hair slightly disheveled from the above-deck wind, namesake inches away from her.

"I told Tom I'd help him out in the galley today."

"You're sick."

Emma clenched her jaw. "I have a slight fever. I'm not on my death bed."

"Why does it matter so much to you?" the princess narrowed her eyes at his question, refusing to answer. In truth, the only reason it bothered her was because she was so used to be treated like Hook was currently treating her- a spoiled princess- and she was tired of it. She had survived more than a decade on the streets by herself, as well as four years at the palace where Neal had tried to kill her. She wasn't a fragile damsel in distress anymore than Hook was a rule-adhering, stiff lieutenant.

"I asked you a question, darling. I suggest you answer it." Emma looked up into the captain's blue eyes, expecting to find the same threat she had seen in them countless times. Instead, she came up short. It wasn't that he wasn't threatening her- he was- but somehow, he seemed as though he might not completely follow through on his threat. Interesting.

"Why are you so concerned about my well-being? If you were ready to kill me at the slightest infraction of your orders, you wouldn't be trying to force me to stay in bed all the day with a head-cold."

"I may be cruel, Swan, but I'm not a fool. Slaves need to be healthy if they are to be sold for a good price."

"But what if I often get sick? I bet you'd have a dissatisfied costumer."

"If you survived on the streets for your entire life, as you say, I doubt that." Hook raised an eyebrow, and a stab of fear coursed through the princess's stomach. She'd just walked her way into a trap. She decided to just settle for a convincing glare, which made Hook chuckle darkly.

"Well, come on then, Jade. If you're so convinced you're not ill, I guess I might as well let you help Tom." Unlocking the door, the pirate stepped aside in order to let Emma out, before shutting the cell door behind her. "I will warn you, though, it's windy out there."

Once both of them were out, they started towards the galley, Hook's hand hovering lightly over her back as if to steady her in case the gale blowing across the ship should cause her to stagger.

"Good morning, Jade," Tom called from where he was scouring a pot with salt water in order to clean it.

"Morning, Tom," Emma answered, giving the older man a tight smile and she approached him.

"So, I was thinking we could try..."

Emma breathed a long sigh as she stepped out on deck, finally free from the galley chores. Even the chill that settled into her bones after mere minutes above-deck wasn't enough to deter Emma of the pleasure of finally being able to see the ocean. Walking over to a nearby crate, the princess climbed up on it and hugged her knees to her chest, reveling in the salty breeze that stained her cheeks pink with cold.

"Swan, what are you doing?" Emma kept her gaze out on the sea, not bothering to look at the captain.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" she heard his footsteps draw closer, and resisted the urge to hide, or, perhaps, throw herself into the sea again.

"Answer me." Emma finally turned her head, to see his stormy eyes fixed on hers.

"Flying across a river," she told him, instantly regretting her sarcasm as, with a slight growl, Hook grabbed her arm and twisted it until she let out a cry of pain, forcing her to look at him.

"I don't care how sick you are," he spat, "I don't tolerate disrespect." he paused. "And neither will your new master." grabbing her roughly, he yanked her off the crate, eyes still narrowed, as he led her back to the brig and locked her up.

"You'll stay here for the rest of the day," he said coldly.

"What about dinner?"

"Perhaps you should have thought about that before you disrespected me. You want to be treated like you're strong, you should act like it,_Emma_." he spun around, leather coat flaring, and vanished through the door.

Suddenly, the air in the brig seemed to close. She felt like she was choking.

_You want to be treated like you're strong, you should act like it,_Emma_. _

_Emma. He called me_Emma_. _

The princess turned pale.

"He knows," she whispered. Her vision began to darken, finally giving her merciful relief, only one thought remaining.

_He knows. _


	6. She Knows

_Killian stepped closer a billboard. A ransom poster of the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, fair haired with pale skin and expressive eyes, and also strangely familiar... Then his eyes fell on the name under it, and a slow, vicious smirk spread across his face as recognition flashed in his eyes. _

**_Wanted: Princess Emma, wife of Prince Neal_**

_He finally had his chance for revenge. _

Hook walked into the brig, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the lack of light. He strode over to the cell, unlocking it even as he gave its occupant a searching glance. He resisted the urge to smile as she looked up, confirming his suspicions without an edge of doubt. His prisoner was the Princess herself, just waiting to be taken to her husband, the son of his Crocodile.

"Wench!" he called out, more harshly than he had intended to. He grabbed the princess's arm and dragged her forwards.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked, a touch groggily, but he gave her no answer until they reached his cabin.

"When they come in, you will tell them nothing, or if you must, you'll tell them you're my wife."

"Your wife?"

"Out of everything I've said, you have a problem with acting as my wife?" but of course. She was married to the crocodile's son, of course she'd prefer Neal to himself.

He tried to tell himself that that didn't matter.

So caught up in his thoughts was he that he barely noticed the edge of fear that flashed through her eyes, a deeper fear than the one he was used to seeing when he threatened her. _She thinks I know,_ he realized. Knowing that the princess was terrified enough to have thrown herself overboard in order for her identity not to be discovered, she obviously didn't want him to know. He decided he wouldn't tell her. It'd save him a lot of trouble in the long run; he'd already fished her out from the ocean once and wasn't too eager to repeat the experience.

"Why should I do this? What reason do I have to not tell them what's been done to me?" he glared at her, hoping to intimidate her but, like usual, failing.

"Because, if you tell them of my true intentions regarding you..." Hook lifted his namesake. "I'm not afraid to use this. Even in this port town, slavery is frowned upon." as he saw the relief descend into her eyes, he smirked inwardly. She believed him. Really, he was almost disappointed she was that naive, but then again, she was but 18, according to the ransom poster.

A small part of him wondered what had caused her to run to a pirate ship in the first place. Was it her impending- or perhaps already consummated- marriage?

The rest of him told himself he didn't care.

"Captain? Who's this wench? Your ill-dressed doxy?" the inspection officers had come in without him knowing, and he instantly snapped to. Knowing he had to keep their attention away from Emma, he strode forwards, thinking quickly.

"Did you just come onto my ship without my permission to insult my lady? Apologize to the lady, _mate_." subtly glancing back, he saw Emma's mouth twitch oddly, then she seemed to fade backwards into the wall enough that it was hard to tell she was even there. He frowned inwardly. She was much too good at hiding herself. He wasn't sure if the reason he was upset at that was because she could escape easier if he couldn't see her, or because she'd obviously learned it for a reason.

"I... I'm sorry," the leader stammered as Hook let him go, keeping his expression fierce. "We're just here for anything suspicious, and we're um... not used to ladies wearing men's clothes." he gave the man a leer.

"Sometimes, in the heat of the moment, the hook can just... slip, you know?" he glared at the man, and for the first time in what seemed like a long time, his glare worked; the man turned away, quickly ordering the rest of his team to search the ship, not even dreaming the prize they searched for was in that very cabin, hidden right in plain sight.

* * *

><p>A day passed by slowly, the only thing breaking the monotony being the warships that informed the pirates of the lost princess Emma's flight (not like that was news to him). Growling silently, he thought for a moment of just throwing her overboard and being done with the matter, but quickly shook the thought off. She was his key for his revenge, no matter how much of a nuisance she was turning into.<p>

A nuisance that was now standing right next to him.

"You're up here early," he commented as mildly as he could, hoping she wouldn't see his inner turmoil. She always seemed to see through him much too easily.

"Tom told me I was good enough to take the morning shift alone. He offered to take afternoon shift."

"So eager to spend time with me, lass?" he asked quickly, watching as she huffed. "You know, if you want to get closer to me you just have to ask, no need to use that as an excuse."

"Is there anything you want me to do other then stay in the brig all day?" Hook glanced up at the sky briefly before answering. He didn't like how it looked; they had a storm coming up soon. Probably a bad one, too, by the looks of it.

"Do you have a problem with that, lass? I'd rather not have to try and fish you out from the ocean a second time." the Princess opened her mouth to reply, but the storm decided to reveal itself at that moment, a harsh gust of wind knocking Emma into him. Trying to ignore the thrill and surge of heat her body woke in him, he hissed, "Get down to the brig, _now_."

Emma didn't move at first, and he sighed, annoyed. Were all princesses this stupid? "Or do I have to carry you there myself?" finally, she moved, scrambling out of his arms and near running towards the brig. He followed, just because he wanted to make sure she didn't throw herself into the sea again. Not because he cared about making sure she made it there safely.

"What are you doing?" he sighed. She really _was _stupid, wasn't she? Or perhaps just naive. He wasn't sure which.

"Making sure you don't throw yourself to the waves again. I've wasted too many provisions on you to not trade you off." _To the Crocodile, _he added silently in his head, trying not to feel guilty that he was basically throwing her to Neal like a lamb to the slaughter.

He didn't quite succeed.

_Are you Captain bloody Hook or not? It doesn't matter what happens to the princess, she's already married to him anyway._Or was she? Just because the ransom poster said she was Neal's wife didn't actually mean she was. _And she doesn't have a ring. _Sighing, he shook his thoughts away as he shoved the princess back into the cell. It didn't matter whether or not she was, in actuality, married to the Crocodile's son. All that mattered was that she was the instrument for his revenge, and he wasn't ashamed to use her.

As he finished locking Emma up, he quickly closed the porthole, not wanting to take even the slightest risk (Especially as Emma was becoming almost concernedly thin- not that he cared about her weight. Of course not. He just didn't want her wriggling through the porthole) with the runaway princess. Quickly running back on deck, he prepared himself for the incoming storm with a grim determination.

* * *

><p>The next morning, as he stepped into the brig, he was greeted with the sight of a flushed, exhausted looking princess.<p>

"What are you doing up?" he asked, the words coming out of his mouth despite himself. "You're sick, you should be in bed!" although he had no idea why he was doing it, he unlocked the cell. "Let me help."

_Besides, if I can make her think I'm softening, she won't be as wary, which means less chance of her finding out and then throwing herself into the ocean at the first opportunity. _

"I'm fine," the princess told him, crossing her arms and glaring.

"No, you're not," he sighed. She definitely wasn't a typical princess, was she? From his experience, normal princesses would already be moaning and crying about their illness, but apparently not this one. Ignoring the thrill his body received on contact with hers, he helped her back onto the cot, not missing the way the princess's eyebrow arched in unconscious skepticism.

"So now you're going to be a gentleman?" she asked sarcastically, and for once Hook let it slide.

"I'm always a gentleman, lass." her eyebrow raised higher, and he knew she didn't believe him for a moment. Exactly why that rankled with him, he had no idea.

"Why even bother to help me? I mean, I know fit slaves give you a better price, but couldn't you just send someone else down to do your dirty work?" personally, that idea appealed greatly to him; the less time he had to spend with the princess the better, but he didn't trust any of his crew members, not even Smee, enough to grant them the brig keys. Also, like he had said earlier, he was a gentleman.

"Only I have the keys to the brig. And as for not helping you, why, that would be bad form. Also, like you said, healthy slaves are always better priced." carefully maintaining the coolness of his tone, he turned to exit, adding, "Now stay in bed. I'll have Tom bring you your meals, but tomorrow, you better be back up. This is a pirate ship, not a nursery."

* * *

><p>As Hook stalked into the galley for the evening meal, Tom hailed him in passing.<p>

"What is it?" He growled, not happy about the interruption of his dinner. He threw a glare at the older man, but he must have been taking lessons from the princess, for he barely flinched.

"I have my hands full with serving the men," Tom stated. Hook raised an eyebrow, wondering what this had to do with anything, "I don't think I can leave the galley right now."

And then, Hook understood.

"You want me to take... Swan her dinner." it came out cold and flat, but Tom just nodded. With a heavy sigh, he resigned himself to carrying the princess's food down to the brig, some strange feeling making him incapable of letting the blonde starve, even though that would have been his first thought under any other circumstance. _Just what was this princess doing to him? _

Upon entering the brig, the princess lifted her head, then her mouth dropped in shock, obviously not expecting him there.

"Why are you here?"

"Now, lass, don't be so eager," he drawled with a small smirk. "Tom had his hands full with cooking." he started unlocking the cell, startled- and just the tiniest bit unnerved- when he saw understanding dawn on the princess's face. He'd only said two sentences, and he somehow could see she understood perfectly why he hadn't sent anyone else down. Maybe the lass wasn't as naive as he had thought.

"How are you feeling? Any better?" _This is just acting, Jones. You _don't _actually care about her at all. _

"Much, thanks," the princess answered calmly, so calmly he almost didn't realize she was lying.

"You're lying," he told her coldly.

"I am not."

"Darling, I know when someone's lying, and right now, you are." the princess sighed, her eyes sparking with, strangely enough, annoyance. Why would she be annoyed when he was asking about her well-being?

"Fine. I feel like hell. That make you feel any better, knowing that the great Captain Hook has a sickly wench on board that's good for absolutely nothing?" he felt a slight shock of surprise run through him, her language definitely not befitting her station. She was certainly not a typical princess. Emma pushed herself up, then turned pale, and he quickly set her food down, then reached for her to steady her. His eyes widened the moment he touched her skin.

"You're burning up! Bloody hell, lass, what were you thinking?"

"That I'd rather die than spend one more second on this ship?" the princess muttered. He tried to ignore the stab of hurt that was sent coursing through him and didn't quite succeed. Thankfully, she didn't seem to notice.

"A bloody nuisance, you are. I'll have to spend days nursing you back to health to get you ready for the trading," he finally said, for lack of a better answer and also to try and maintain his image. "Get some sleep. You'll mend faster that way and I'll have to spend less time babying you." quickly retreating, he locked the cell behind him and fled out the brig.

_What is this woman doing to me?_

* * *

><p>"How are you feeling?" he had, once again, been roped into bringing the princess her breakfast, but somehow, it didn't seem so terrible anymore. He had no idea why; he had a feeling he didn't want to know the real reason, either. He watched as the princess instantly jerked awake, green eyes opening and in a moment going from their soft, sleepy state to a hardened, wide awake one.<p>

"I'm fine," she told him, and he would have believed her if her eyes hadn't have closed for a fraction of a second and her mouth pinched shut as though keeping a wave of nausea down.

"You're lying." she was a bloody good liar, too. Entirely too good for a mere princess.

"I'm not," she replied. "I'm _fine._"

"Bloody hell," he said, exasperated. "Will you just stop already?" she was too bloody stubborn for her own good; she'd only get herself into trouble with that attitude.

"_I'm fine," _Emma snapped, looking annoyed in her own turn and just a little bit offended. He opened his mouth to respond, but Emma took him by surprise by flying at him, kicking and punching.

_What the bloody hell? _Quickly, he grabbed her arms with his good hand and snagged her shirt with his hook. And that was definitely _not _because he didn't want the weakened princess to hurt herself. Nope. Not at all.

He stared at her for a long moment, his mind curiously blank for the first time in a long time. Then she started coughing- or wheezing, he wasn't sure which one- and his thoughts came back to him.

"Jade. You're sick," he told her, remembering just in time to use her pseudonym instead of her real name, or worse yet, her title.

"I'm-"

"No, you are not 'fine'," he said, annoyed. For once, she flicked her gaze away from his. "Why do you insist on being so bloody stubborn?"

"I'm not some pampered, spoiled, princess, you know," Emma ground out angrily, and, startled by her tone, he for the first time looked, really looked at her eyes. Abandonment, fear, loss, betrayal... He had to stop himself from drawing back in surprise. She was a _princess, _they were supposed to be pampered, spoiled beauties. But Princess Emma was very far from that. He stared at her for a moment longer, opening his mouth, before remember himself and stopping the words that were about to come out ("I know," in a much more serious tone than he normally used) and instead snapping,

"Get back into bed, wench," and shoving her back into the bed. He supposed it was a good thing she had started coughing again just a moment before and was too out of breath to protest.

Once he had thrown her onto the bed, instead of pulling back, he stayed there, staring at her, and the princess began to slowly turn red as she realized her current position- on her back in bed with a man practically chest-to-chest with her.

"You're all red," Hook purred, fighting a smirk and not quite succeeding.

"I'm sick."

He opened his mouth to answer, and once more thought better of it, just as a knock sounded on the door.

"Captain?" he sighed lightly. That would be Smee.

"Not now, Smee," Hook replied irritably.

"But, Captain-"

"I said, not now," he snapped, drawing back from Emma and standing up straight.

Hook strode out of the cell, locking it quickly, and starting towards the door. He opened it and glared at the man- or rat, he was never quite sure which one it was- that stood behind it.

"What is it, Smee?" it might have sounded like a casual question, if not for his near murderous tone. Smee shrank backwards.

"Captain, I just wanted to tell you about the ship to our-"

Hook shoved past him.

"Where?"

"Half a league to starboard."

"Flag?"

"King George, Captain."

_King George. The tyrant king that had taken away his brother's life. _Blind fury began coursing through him, and he gave Smee a chilling, sadistic smile.

"Why don't we give them something to remember us by?" he started out the door, casually adding, "If, of course, there's anybody left once I've finished with them."

* * *

><p>He barely remembered anything after it was all said and done, nothing except his enemies's screams and blood, lots of blood. He couldn't say it was a new thing, though; even before his love, his Milah had been taken away from him, after Liam had died, it had been so easy to seek out bloodshed and lose himself in it. It never failed to make him exhausted, both in mind and body, but he kept on because he couldn't die until he had avenged Milah, until he had honored Liam's memory by fulfilling his promise to both him and to Milah.<p>

He stood in the captain's cabin, blood-stains on his clothes and blood covering his hand, his hook, his sword. Killing had always come easily to him. It had never bothered him before; why should it bother him now?

But suddenly, it did; the blind fury, the rage, the dying screams, the blood, thick, sticky, and crimson. It was _wrong. _He didn't know how he knew that, or why he only now knew it, but it was. The problem was, he couldn't stop, couldn't stop the ceaseless killing. He _had _to, he _had to_, else he'd go insane and become nothing more but the empty howling of the wind on stormy nights in the ocean. He needed it, the killing, the pain, the red marring his hand and hook, to hold him together, because without it, without the violence holding him together, he'd fall apart, and he'd already spent too much time broken. He needed to be whole, and some part of his mind had told him that he was, that this was what he was meant to be, a murderer, a killer, a heartless monster whose only purpose was to plunder and destroy.

But now, now some part of him that had lain dormant for years told him this was wrong, that he wasn't meant to be this way, that he could be something_more, _even with one hand, even with red marring his soul and blood staining his ledger.

But that was foolishness. He was Captain Hook. He was meant to be this way.

Wasn't he?

* * *

><p>"What are you doing up? You should be resting." he looked intently at the princess, half-wanting to reach out and touch her forehead, to see just <em>how <em>sick she was. But that would be too much caring, and Hook didn't care for her. At all.

"I told Tom I'd help him out in the galley today." he resisted the urge to sigh in exasperation. He should be happy the princess was trying to help, but instead he was just annoyed.

"You're sick."

Emma clenched her jaw. "I have a slight fever. I'm not on my death bed."

"Why does it matter so much to you?" the princess narrowed her eyes at his question, refusing to answer. He gave her another moment to answer, before giving her a glare.

"I asked you a question, darling. I suggest you answer it." he tried to make his tone threatening, but came up short, and from the look in Emma's eyes, she noticed too. _Just what is happening to me? _

"Why are you so concerned about my well-being? If you were ready to kill me at the slightest infraction of your orders, you wouldn't be trying to force me to stay in bed all the day with a head-cold."

"I may be cruel, Swan, but I'm not a fool. Slaves need to be healthy if they are to be sold for a good price."

"But what if I often get sick? I bet you'd have a dissatisfied costumer."

"If you survived on the streets for your entire life, as you say, I doubt that." he raised an eyebrow, seeing the slight stab fear in her eyes, although it was muted, as though she had actually lived on the streets at some point. Strange...

"Well, come on then, Jade," he finally said. "If you're so convinced you're not ill, I guess I might as well let you help Tom." Unlocking the door, he stepped aside in order to let Emma out, before shutting the cell door behind her. "I will warn you, though, it's windy out there."

He watched her leave, wondering about the strange feeling that seemed to be set off whenever he was too near to her.

* * *

><p>The next day, as he was walking around the deck, he saw the princess sitting on a crate, staring out in the ocean, looking more peaceful than he'd ever seen her before. He just watched her for a long moment, before slowly making his way over to her, at first not wanting to disturb her, but as he approached, at the same time he wanted to speak to her.<p>

"Swan, what are you doing?" somehow, it came out a lot more gentle than he had wanted, but Emma didn't seem to notice.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Emma asked without looking at him.

"Answer me." he said, this time controlling his tone.

"Flying across a river," Emma answered sarcastically, and for the first time in a long time, he felt the familiar anger course through him, only this time it was at her. He grabbed her arm and twisted it, trying not to let the cry of pain she let out affect him.

"I don't care how sick you are," he spat, "I don't tolerate disrespect." he paused. "And neither will your new master," _Neal, _he added silently. Grabbing her wrist, he yanked her off the crate and started towards the brig, still in the same blind fury.

"You'll stay here for the rest of the day," he said coldly.

"What about dinner?" she asked, her eyes full of fear, no matter how much she tried to hide it, and he realized it wasn't just about not having dinner.

She was afraid of _him,_ and for a moment, his anger faltered, and then he knew. He knew what- or more accurately, whom- it was that had made him realize what he had been doing for years was wrong.

It was Emma. She was his light, and he realized she could become his salvation if he let her.

And that terrified him.

"Perhaps you should have thought about that before you disrespected me. You want to be treated like you're strong, you should act like it,_Emma_." he was so terrified he didn't even realize at first he had said Emma, not Jade, but when he finally did, he froze in his tracks, right in front of his cabin door.

_She knows. _

Well, this was certainly going to be interesting, wasn't it?

**A/N: Sorry about not posting for so long! I had the chapter finished for more than a week and simply forgot to post it. With that being said, I hope everyone has a happy Thanksgiving!**


	7. Hot n' Cold

_Breathe, Emma, breathe, _the princess told herself, clutching the cell bars for support, her breathing shallow and rapid.

_First things first, let's start simple. _She took another deep breath, leaning her head against the bars. _Okay. So, Hook knows my real name, which means he almost certainly knows I'm the Princess of Snow White's kingdom. _Emma slowly straightened, taking one step and then another away from the bars, and began pacing. _The question is, why would he be taking me to slave traders if he knows he could get a ransom- _

"_Shit._" Emma hissed, freezing, everything suddenly coming together.

The searching glance he had given her in the cell before the inspectors had come, the glance she had barely even noticed.

The way he had hesitated before saying 'Jade'.

The men had been talking about the ransom before Hook had gone, she knew. Hook must've heard and gone out to look, recognizing her instantly from the ransom poster.

Now, the question was: where was he taking her? She increased the speed of her pacing, her heartbeat increasing along with it until she could feel it pounding against her ribcage. There were two options: one, he could be taking her back home, to her parents.

Or, he could be taking her to Neal.

The princess wrung her hands, her mind racing, before finally she slowed down, closing her eyes. If she freaked out now, she would get nowhere. She needed to approach this carefully; it could be that Hook hadn't realized his slip-up, and she could yet get information out of him if she was lucky.

Her mind made up, Emma lowered herself back down to the hard mattress that served as her bed, tossing and turning until finally, just before dawn, she fell into a fitful, restless sleep.

"Good morning, Princess." Emma opened her eyes instantly, springing out of bed.

"Hook." so he had noticed; she would not get any information out of him, by the looks of it. His brilliant blue eyes were cold and guarded, his face set and stern, the rest of his body tense.

"That's Captain to you, princess," he said, not as bitingly as he usually did. Emma took another look at him, her curiosity alighting. He seemed... distant almost. His walls were high up; she could tell, mostly because she'd done the same thing when she was scared or out of her element. The question was, why was he doing it? She couldn't detect a hint of fear in his eyes, nor in his stance, and fear was something she was an expert in. Either he was that good of an actor, or it was something other than fear that had caused his walls to spring up. She wasn't sure which one it was.

Hook smirked at her, and Emma realized she'd been analyzing him for too long.

"Can't get enough of me? I have to say, I've never before fucked a princess before. Perhaps this will be a learning experience for both of us." Emma felt the strange mixture of emotions she often seemed to have around Hook: Annoyance, offense, disgust, and another emotion she didn't want to admit.

Emma scoffed. "I've had quite enough of you already," she said boldly. After all, Hook needed to keep her alive for ransom; he couldn't risk ruining his chance for riches, could he? It also explained why, lately, his threats hadn't been as... threatening. He couldn't give damaged property back to her parents. _Or Neal, _her head reminded her silently. _Shut up, _she replied.

Hook made a tsking sound. "Quite daring, aren't we, princess?" Emma tilted her head defiantly.

"You have to keep me alive for ransom; you can not risk damaging me and thus risking your chances at a ransom." Hook raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth quirking slightly.

"Is that so?" he asked, rhetorically, in Emma's opinion. She gave no reply, merely staring at him from across the bars.

Finally, Hook shrugged. "I'd best get you out, now. Just because you're a princess doesn't mean you don't have to work." Emma's nostrils flared, and she bit back the angry retort about to come, remaining silent as Hook unlocked her cell. She stepped forwards, intending to exit her prison, realizing too late that instead of stepping back like he usually did, he had remained still, meaning the princess bumped into him. Instantly, his arms circled around her, pulling her closer, no matter how much she struggled.

"It's about bloody time," his accented voice said right above her ear. Emma glared into his shoulder, continuing her struggle, but he kept his hold tight.

"Let go of me, Hook," the princess said, trying to keep the tremor of growing fear out of her voice. That was the other emotion she'd so often felt around him- fear. She had heard of, as well as seen and felt, what he could do, and it terrified her. It didn't help matters that she could feel something hard and undeniably masculine against her currently.

"Why so eager? I'm sure we could... figure something out," he purred seductively, and for the first time, she almost _wanted _to give in to him, to let him have his way with her body, but then he shifted, pushing her against the bars, and the fear came back.

For the first time in weeks, Emma felt her powers surging back into her control, strangely enough coinciding with the desire that had welled up inside her for the briefest of moments.

"Let go of me!" she cried, a powerful blast of magic making Hook go flying through the air and land in a heap on the floor. Instead of dissipating, however, her fear only returned, stronger this time, only it wasn't directed entirely at Hook. It was at herself.

_What have I done? _It wasn't that she cared for him, not at all; it was the mere idea of hurting someone like that.

She watched in stunned horror as Hook slowly pulled himself off the floor, bracing herself for the look of horror, fear, and disgust she always saw on people's faces after she did anything with her magic, even if it was break a glass window. Instead, she saw awe, and a bit of new wariness, but not the flat out panic she normally saw in people's eyes.

"You..."

"...have magic. Very observant," Emma said bitterly. She _hated _her powers, hated them with a passion. It was her parent's fault she had them; being the product of True Love and the 'Savior', whatever _that _was supposed to mean. Hook opened his mouth, still with that strange expression on his face, and then closed it again, a shadow passing over his face so quickly she couldn't tell what it was, before he resumed his mask. Without another word, he turned and strode out the door, leaving her with no choice but the follow him.

The sea had always calmed Emma, even when she was an 'orphan' living on the streets, and it calmed her then as she sat, knees pulled to her chest, back against a crate, gazing out at the endless expanse of water. For the first time all day, she allowed herself to think of her current predicament.

She was doomed whether Hook was taking her back to her parents, or to Neal, she realized. Even if he took her back to her parents, she doubted they had a choice as to whether or not she was wed to Neal; who knows, she could have already been wed in an absentee wedding. So the problem to think about was how to survive, and eventually escape, Neal.

"Does she calm you, too?" Emma spun around, still on the ground, and craned her neck to look up.

"You call the ocean she?" Hook raised an eyebrow, perhaps seeing through her deflection, perhaps surprised she hadn't jumped on the 'too' part, perhaps surprised he had even said the 'too' part.

"But of course. She is my lady," he said, that infuriating smirk slipping onto his face again. "But back to my question. Does she?"

"Does she what?" Emma asked, knowing she could only delay for so long but not wanting to give even the tiniest bit of information about herself away, especially since she had divulged one of her largest secrets earlier that day.

Hook quirked a brow. "Come now, love, you know what I mean. Don't play dumb."

"What do you mean?"

Hook stepped closer to her, casting his shadow over her. He peered down at her intently, and Emma sprang up, feeling vulnerable all of a sudden, but it merely made Hook lean even closer. Emma swallowed uncomfortably, not liking the intensity behind his gaze. In some ways, this was worse than earlier, when she'd been sure he was going to take her right then and there; she felt even more vulnerable now, as if he could see everything about her. Then she told herself to stop thinking that nonsense. They weren't some lost soulmates or some crap like that; true love only existed for her parents.

Emma had to stop herself from snorting. Had she just thought about _true love _and Hook in the same sentence without putting a _not _in there somewhere?

"Someone hurt you, Swan," he said quietly, from the looks of it not just surprising Emma but himself as well. Beginning to panic- because _no one _had ever been able to read her that well- at all, really- she straightened, responding quickly.

"Yes, that would be you, if I remember correctly," Emma said as coolly as she could, knowing how easily this could set him off again, but almost preferring his anger to this, this... _softness, _because at least she always knew the cruelty was real. The softness wasn't, and she hated it because it was at times like this that she began to forget that it was.

Emma watched as Hook's eyes widened briefly, before a flash of something passed by them, until finally they became guarded again, though somehow softer than before.

"_Emma,_" he said, expression unreadable- or maybe that was because Emma didn't _want _to know what he was thinking.

"Captain," Emma said stiffly, trying to ignore the strange, not altogether unpleasant, feeling that had begun to grow in her chest upon hearing him say her name.

Hook looked up- when had he even looked down? She had no idea- and met her eyes. For a long moment, he gazed at her, blue eyes intense and swirling with the beginnings of a storm- of what, she really didn't want to know- and then suddenly, he straightened, eyes becoming blank and dark and unreadable as he backed up. Emma kept a sigh of relief in, not wanting him to know just how much a simple look could scare her, and took a step forward, trying to move past him. She brushed briefly against him as she moved, and both princess and pirate tensed. Emma took a quick, awkward step out of his reach, paused for a fraction of a second to see if he was going to try to stop her, before fleeing back to her cell as fast as she could without flat out running.

It only occurred to her hours later, that she had never answered his question.

An hour after that, she realized he had never asked her the question again.

The next morning, as Hook came in to wake her, Emma was already awake. She had spent the night alternating between fitful sleep and wakefulness, until just before dawn, she'd given up and taken to pacing the tiny area of her cell.

"Princess," Hook said, sounding surprised.

"Hook," Emma answered, searching his face for any signs of yesterday's weakness. _Falseness, _she reminded herself. _He wasn't being weak, he was _acting _weak. _Thankfully, she found none; she'd always preferred people to be too cruel than to be too soft, as cruelty was much harder to fake than softness. It was more real, more genuine, it could be trusted. Gentleness could not be trusted, she had learned that from the streets, from Neal.

"You're up early," he commented, disturbing her from her thoughts.

"No earlier than you are," the princess shot back. Hook raised an eyebrow, apparently surprised at her attitude, but not making a comment on it. He strode towards her cell, unlocked it, and then stepped back, apparently not wanting a repeat of the day before. _He isn't the only one, _Emma thought dryly, as she stepped out, carefully avoiding Hook. They silently strode out of the brig, each going off to their own separate duties.

As Emma stepped into the galley, her only thought was, annoyingly enough, a devilishly handsome pirate with one hand and a pair of bright blue eyes.

The next day, Hook came into the brig looking pale and drawn, his mask on and expression completely unreadable.

"Out with you, wench," he said coldly as he unlocked the door. Emma said nothing, quickly brushing past him, trying to find relief at his coldness. Instead, she felt a small, aching hurt. _For what? _she asked herself sternly. There was nothing he should be able to do that should hurt her in that way.

Emma slipped out the door, still lost in her thoughts. If anything, she supposed, she was simply hurt that he, like all the others, had finally decided to drop pretenses and treat her like the monster he thought she was; after all, he'd been hurt by her powers the day before, she'd been able to see the new wariness it prompted from him.

The princess sighed. Why did feelings have to be so complicated? If only her feelings about and for Hook were as uncomplicated at her feelings for the food she was currently chopping, everything would be so much easier.

But of course, nothing could ever be easy for her, could it?

"I'm not an expert on meat, Princess, but I don't think it's supposed to be pounded that much." Emma's hands froze instantly.

"What are you doing here, Hook?" her tone was frigid and cold, matching Hook's tone.

"I wanted to make sure you weren't about to throw yourself out of a porthole."

"Why would I do that? I'm sure you'd simply fish me out and kill me yourself if I did that."

"That would defeat the purpose of the ransom, Princess. But believe me, if I could kill you, I would." his tone remained cold and convincing, leaving Emma even more confused. How had this man gone from one day almost having sex with her and psychoanalyzing her, to the next wanting to kill her?

"What's the real reason you're here, Hook?"

"I told you already, Princess. I suggest you don't question your captain." the threat was clear, and uninvited, a shiver wracked her body. Emma tipped her head downwards slightly; normally, she wouldn't submit to him, but he was different today. She somehow felt that, if she was not a princess and was not about to be ransomed, he would be killing her. Right now, perhaps.

The mere thought sent a chill through her, increasing her fear towards the pirate. She chopped the meat thrice more and added it to a kettle of water, all the while feeling Hook's cold stare burning into her back, increasing her unease.

Finally, she finished, turning around only to find Hook staring at her with an entirely different expression on his face; a much softer, gentler one. Instantly, however, he pulled his mask back on, leaving Emma more confused than ever. What was he doing?

"I'll escort you back to the brig now, Princess," he said curtly, as Tom walked in, in order to start his shift. Emma opened her mouth to protest, but promptly shut it, his cold eyes from earlier making her unwilling to fight.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Princess," Hook said, with a strange gleam in his eyes, and once more she wondered, _just what was going on here? _Before she nestled into her hard mattress and drifted slowly off to sleep.


End file.
